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The Marguerite Series No. 38. Oct. 15, 1894. Issued Semi-Monthly. Subscription price, $6.00 per year. 
Entered at Chicago Post Ofiice as Second-class Matter. 








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tefes'.i;' 









THE FIREMAN’S HEART 


BY 


BEATRICE MAREAN 


AUTHOR OF 

HER SHADOWED LIFE,” “WHEN A WOMAN LOVES, 
ETC., ETC. 


CHICAGO 

E. A. WEEKS & COMPANY 
521-531 Wabash Ave. 


Copyright 1894 by 
E. A. Weeks & Company 


The Fireman's Heart 




TO THE FIREMEN OF AMERICA 


THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
BY 

THE AUTHOR 


Ocala, Florida, August $, l8g4. 


/ 



THE FIREMAN’S HEART 


CHAPTER I. 

The western sunbeams of an afternoon in June 
were sparkling against the tall church spires and 
many windows of a western town, situated in a 
fair and. fertile valley, with a river winding through 
it like a band of crystal. Many a beautiful object 
was rendered more beautiful still in this enter- 
prising town of Fairfield, Arizona, by the sun- 
beams which fell upon them in a cataract of light 
on the afternoon in which our story opens. But 
those same sunbeams sought out a scene of des- 
olation where smoldered the ruins of a once costly 
edifice, turning the still living coals which lay in 
its basement into dull-hued cinders, and making 
the blackened desolation more desolate still by the 
very contrast of their brightness. 

The fire had broken out in the interior of the 
building and gained considerable headway before it 
had been discovered. Ever on the alert for dan- 
ger and quick to respond when the alarm is sounded 
3 


4 


THE fireman’s HEART 


calling them to duty, as the members of the noble 
craft for which this story is written, ever are, the 
members of the Fairfield fire department were soon 
on the scene of action, and although the alarm 
had been sounded too late to save the building, 
the fire had by the heroic efforts of the fire laddies 
been confined to the place where it originated, 
and the devastation which threatened the town 
was averted. 

The men and boys lining the street burst into 
cheers as the well trained company passed on its 
way to the engine house, with the bell of the hose 
wagon clanging as it went, and the brass machinery 
glistening in the sun. 

"Hurrah for ‘The Alerts’!” shouted a lusty voice 
from the sidewalk, and the cheer was taken up 
by the bystanders and went echoing from the 
portly, pleasant-faced mayor of the town to the 
little barefooted urchins who waved their caps or 
ragged brimmed hats as they ran after the hose 
wagon and piped forth, "Hurrah for ‘The Alerts’ h’ 

"By Jupiter, boys!" exclaimed Foreman Fred 
Ellsworth, when the hose reel was placed in posi- 
tion and the noble fire horse contentedly nibbling 
the fragrant hay from the rack in his stable. 
"Didn’t we have a tough tussle with the flames 


THE fireman’s HEART 


5 


this afternoon? Once the wind was blow- 
ing such a gale I feared that the whole town was 
doomed to go up in smoke.” 

. He took his handkerchief from his hip pocket 
as he spoke, and taking off his cap, tossed back 
the little damp rings of dark hair and wiped the 
perspiration from his smoke begrimed brow. 

A splendid looking specimen of young manhood 
was Fred Ellsworth, the beloved foreman of the 
“Alerts,” as he stood in the company’s engine 
house that June afternoon, with the sunlight, which 
streamed in at the wide open doors, falling around 
him like a mantle of light, as he addressed his 
“laddies” tried and true. 

“You’re right, Cap’n; our work has been any- 
thing but play for the last two hours. But thank 
goodness, we were able to save the town from 
destruction, even if old Moneybags’ warehouses 
and grain elevator did have to go. But he’s rich 
enough to stand it,” replied Tom Miller with a 
little chuckle of laughter. ^ 

“Better say that the insurance companies are 
rich enough to stand it, Tom; for old Money- 
bags always keeps his property well insured, ” put 
in little Joe Davis, the smallest but most daring 
man in the company. 


6 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


“That he does, comrades. Fires doesn’t hurt 
rich men. It’s the poor who have to suffer,” 
agreed Joe Burk, as he picked up a whisk broom 
which lay on an inverted box, and began to vig- 
orously dust the ashes from his cap. 

“In this as in all things,” replied Captain Ells- 
worth sententiously. 

“Holy Moses! it’s me roight hand phwats a 
blisther entiorely from the hate of the foir this 
afternoon,” cried Timothy O’ Brian, who had up to 
this time been standing blowing his breath on the 
afflicted member. 

“Pshaw! what does a blistered hand amount to, 
Tim?” said Captain Ellsworth contemptuously. 
“Better be thankful that you were not knocked 
cold by a piece of falling timber, as poor Larry 
Bradley was this afternoon, instead of whining 
over a blistered hand.” 

“Arrah, do you hear that now, me hearties?” 
asked Tim, as his honest features relaxed in a 
broad grin. “Be jabbers, but our cap’n’s the 
bye who gives us the divel intiorely if we’re afther 
whoining over the knocks and burns we gits whin 
in the discharge of our dooty. But, be gorra, 
it was mesilf phwat thought poor Larry was kilt 
intiorly phewn I saw him fall loik an ox at the 
foir to-day.” 


THE FlREMAN^S HEART 


7 


“Oh, he only had the breath knocked out of 
him," commented Joe. “But he looked mighty 
white and groggy when they helped him up, poor 
boy. " 

“Ah, well, a fireman’s grave is always open," 
replied the foreman philosophically, “and he never 
knows when he’ll stumble into it. It is a won- 
der that some of us didn’t step into ours at the 
fire to-day, for I must say, without any desire to 
flatter you, boys, that we took some narrow 
chances. " 

“Arrah now, Cap’n, an’ its Tim O’ Brian who 
is not the bye to be afther moindin’ de danger 
an’ de hard work at all, at all, if the spalpeens 
phowt he saves properthy for would be afther 
appreciatin’ our sarvices, " replied Tim ruefully, as 
he drew out a soiled handkerchief and wrapped 
it around his burned hand. 

“Ah, Tim, let me tell you, old boy, that if it 
is true appreciation for your services as a fireman 
that you are expecting, you’ll be left every time," 
Captain Ellsworth answered seriously. “A fireman, 
like a soldier, must bravely face his duty and 
leave the consequences to the powers that be, with- 
out indulging in the hope of a favor or true ap- 
preciation. " 


8 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“Be gorra, an’ it’s yersilf phwats roight, Cap’n, 
as you’re always shure to be, an’ it’s Tim O’Brian 
phwat expects to doi a fireman’s death if his loif is 
spared. Well, I’ll fill me poip; thin it’s mesilf 
phwat’ s goin’ to see about poor Larry.’’ Tim had 
drawn his pipe and bag of tobacco from his pocket 
while speaking, and now having filled the former, 
placed it in his mouth and started toward the 
door, replacing the tobacco bag in his pocket as 
he went. 

“Tim, tell Larry that the boys will be' over to 
see him directly,’’ called Captain Ellsworth after 
the retreating figure of the Irishman. 

“01 roight, Cap’n,’’ came cheerily back from 
Tim, as he disappeared from the engine house 
and bent his footsteps toward the residence of his 
injured comrade. 

“Now, boys,’’ said the foreman briskly, as he 
turned to the group of weary firemen, “get to 
work and polish up the hose wagon, and make 
things tidy, and we will turn in for an hour’s 
rest. ’’ 

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,’’ came from the laddies in a 
chorus, as they commenced work with alacrity. 

“The saints defind us!’’ cried Tim O’ Brian, re- 
appearing on the scene in great haste and with 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


9 


alarm depicted on his countenance. “Cap’n, it’s 
the chafe phwats cornin’ wid poor Bradley, and de 
bye looks as whoit and wake as if he was jist 
gitten over a tin days’ spree. ” 

“Ah, then the poor fellow must have been in- 
jured more than we imagined he was,’’ replied 
Captain Ellsworth regretfully, as he started toward 
the door. 

At the entrance he was met by Chief McLain 
of the Fairfield fire department, half carrying 
Lawrence Bradley, whose face was as pale as death 
as he leaned for support heavily against the chief’s 
sturdy shoulder. 

“Boys, ’’ exclaimed the chief hurriedly, as he 
entered the engine house supporting the form of 
the injured fireman, “I fear Bradley is badly in- 
jured. Hurry, bring a cot; don’t you see that the 
man is fainting?’’ 

Tim O’ Brian dashed out to get a cot, while the 
other members of the hose company came quickly 
forward to assist the chief and foreman in the 
care of the suffering man, who had now closed 
his eyes and fainted dead away. 

They laid him tenderly on the floor of the engine 
house, loosened his uniform, and bathed his face 
in the cold water which one of the boys brought 


10 


THE fireman’s HEART 


in a tin dipper; indulging the while in many ex- 
clamations of pity and regret at their comrade’s 
misfortune. 

By the time that Tim reappeared carrying a 
cot, the injured fireman, with a few feebly drawn 
sighs, returned to consciousness and raised him- 
self to a sitting posture on the floor. 

“Boys, help me to place him on the cot,” com- 
manded the chief, and with hands as tender as a 
woman’s could have been, three fire laddies whose 
hearts were dauntless and nerves were steel when 
fighting the fire elements which threatened to lay 
in waste happy homes or valuable property, raised 
the form of their suffering comrade and gently 
placed it on the cot. 

“I had no idea that piece of scantling hurt you 
so badly, Larry," said the chief, bending over the 
suffering man and smoothing back the hair from 
his broad, pale brow. “It is too bad. I’ll declare! 
Where do you feel the most pain, old man?” 

“In my chest, Chief," replied Bradley feebly, 
as he placed his hand on his lungs. 

“Poor fellow,” the chief said sympathetically, 
“that was an ugly blow you got. Boys,” address- 
ing the sympathetic group, “get some brandy for 
him.” 


II 




THE fireman’s HEART 


"There’s a wee drap of the crathur lift in me 
flask, Chafe,” said Tim, drawing a flask from his 
pocket and presenting it to his chief. "Give it 
to the poor bye, and I think it will be afther re- 
viving him.” 

"You had better run for the doctor, Tim,” ad- 
vised the chief, as he took the proffered flask and 
put the mouth, which he had uncorked while speak- 
ing, to the sufferer’s lips. "Get the first physician 
you can find, and tell him to come with all the 
haste possible to the engine house of the ‘Alerts.’” 

"01 roight, Chief. It’s mesilf phwat will be back 
in de shake ob a lamb’s tail wid de docther, and 
be jabbers, I hope de poor bye won’t doi under 
de skillful tratement of de same,” said Tim, as he 
settled his cap more firmly on his head and 
dashed out in §^arch of the physician. 

In less than five minutes after he had quitted 
the engine house, Tim, all breathless from run- 
ning, returned to the same, accompanied by Dr. 
Gray, a middle-aged gentleman, who was highly 
esteemed in Fairfield and the surrounding country 
for his kindness of heart and skill as a medical 
practitioner. 

"Hello, Chief,” he exclaimed cheerfully, as he 
came in and glanced at the serious faces of the 


12 


THE fireman’s HEART 


company, “what’s the row? You all look as sol- 
emn as a flock of owls.’’ 

“Lawrence Bradley was injured at the fire to- 
day, doctor, by a piece of falling timber striking 
him,’’ replied the chief sadly. 

“A piece of falling timber, eh? Any bones 
broken that you know of?’’ inquired Dr. Gray, as 
he deposited his hat and medicine case on the 
floor beside the chair which Captain Ellsworth 
had placed for him beside the cot; and sitting 
down, the doctor looked for a moment critically 
at his patient. 

“None that we have discovered, doctor. The 
blow first knocked him senseless, but he soon 
revived, got up and thought he was all right. 
After the fire he sat down in the shade and com- 
plained of feeling weak. I remained with him 
until he felt better, and then started to walk with 
him to the engine house. We had only proceeded 
a few blocks when he was suddenly attacked with 
dizziness. I brought him in here and he fainted 
immediately, but soon recovered consciousness,’’ 
explained Chief McLain. 

“Well, Larry, this is rather hard luck you are 
in to-day,’’ and Dr. Gray took the patient’s hand 
as he addressed the remark, and feeling for the 


THE FIREMAN S HEART I3 

pulse, continued: “Where do you feel the most 
pain?" 

Lawrence Bradley turned a pair of large, soft 
brown eyes upon the physician’s kindly face, and 
answered in a feeble voice: 

“In my chest, doctor.” 

The physician bent his body and placed his ear 
on the young man’s chest, listened intently for a 
moment, and then removed his ear to the vicinity 
of the patient’s heart. When the doctor at length 
raised his head and resumed an upright position 
in his chair, a sad look had replaced the merry 
twinkle which usually shone in his kindly gray 
eyes. 

Silently he lifted his case to his lap, opened it, 
and dealing out a white powder from one of its 
bottles, gave it to the suffering man. Then, clos- 
ing his case with a soft click, he got up and plac- 
ing it on a box which served as a table in the en- 
gine house, picked up his hat, and said: 

“Boys, attend to Lawrence until I come back.” 

“Are you going to leave me, doctor?” the pa- 
tient asked in an anxious voice, as his bright eyes 
followed the physician’s movements. 

“No, Lawrence. I just want to speak to your 
chief a moment. Lie still and keep quiet, boy. 


14 


THE fireman’s HEART 


I’ll be back presently,” and beckoning to the 
chief to follow him, the two left the engine house 
and stepped out on the street together. 

They paused a few steps from the door of the 
engine house, and Chief McLain inquired anx- 
iously: 

“How did you find Lawrence, doctor?” 

‘‘Very badly injured,” was the answer. 

‘‘Not dangerously, I hope,” said the chief in a 
tone of still greater anxiety. 

‘‘Chief, I am pained to tell you that your com- 
rade is fatally injured,” replied the physician 
impressively. 

‘‘Why, is it possible?” exclaimed the chief in a 
voice of pained surprise. ‘‘How is he injured?” 

‘‘Internally. The poor fellow is having internal 
hemorrhage, which must in a very short time, per- 
haps in the spac-e of an hour, result in his death,” 
Dr. Gray replied sadly. 

‘‘Poor Larry!" the chief replied with rising 
emotion. “A more loyal comrade or braver fireman 
never offered up his life on the altar of duty.” 

‘‘And he was in all the vigor of his young man- 
hood only a few hours ago,” returned the physi- 
cian sadly, and then asked suddenly: ‘‘But has 
the man no family or relatives who should be in- 
formed of his dying condition?” 


THE fireman’s HEART 


15 


“He has no relatives that I am aware of, and 
his family consists of only himself and his little 
motherless daughter. Do you think I had best 
send for her?” 

“How old is the child?” the physician ques- 
tioned thoughtfully. 

“Not quite fourteen years of age,” was the ready 
answer. 

“It will be a terrible shock to the poor little 
thing to be so suddenly called upon to witness 
her father’s dying moments,” replied Dr. Gray 
pityingly, as his thoughts flew to his own affec- 
tionate little daughter of the same age as that of 
the dying man’s child. 

“Chafe, Chafe!” and Timothy O’Brian, with the 
cheerful ruddy color of his face blanched to a pale, 
sallow hue, broke in upon the conversation be- 
tween the physician and chief. “Poor Larry is 
begging yez to come to him, and Holy Mither! 
the bye looks loik he was goin’ to doi. ” 

The chief, followed by the physician, turned 
and quickly reentered the engine house, and the 
next instant he was leaning over the form of the 
dying fireman, while Dr. Gray seated himself and 
pressed his fingers lightly on the sufferer’s pulse. 

“What is it, Larry?” inquired the chief ten- 
derly. 


l6 THE fireman’s HEART 

Lawrence Bradley looked silently for a moment 
into the sympathetic eyes of his chief, and then 
said in a firm voice which had also grown a trifle 
stronger in the last few moments, just as the flick- 
ering flame of a taper increases in brightness be- 
fore it is extinguished forever: 

“Chief, I am dying.” 

“Oh, Larry, I hope not," returned the other, try- 
ing to repress his rising emotions. 

“Send for my little daughter, my little Hya- 
cinth. I have something to say to her before I 
go," continued the dying fireman, unheeding his 
chief’s hopeful words. 

The chief raised his head and looked into the 
sad faces of the laddies gathered around their dy- 
ing comrade, and asked impressively: 

“Boys, which one of you will go and summon 
little Hyacinth to her dying father’s side?" 

The eyes of every man dropped under the in- 
quiring ones of their chief, who continued: 

“Tim O’ Brian, will you go and bring the child 
here?" 

“May all the saints have mercy on me poor 
sowl, Chafe,” Tim answered, as he dashed the tears 
from his eyes. “Ask me to go and stand forninst 
the mouth of a belchin’ cannon or to walk in any 


THE fireman’s heart 


17 


Other way into the open jaws of death, and ye 
may bet your loif that Timothy O’ Brian will heed 
the commands of his chafe and doi game. But 
for the love of the Blessed Virgin, Chafe, don’t 
bid him go an’ be afther breakin’ the heart of de 
innocent choild who has iver since she was born 
been the babby and pet of her father’s foir com- 
pany. I can’t do it, Chafe, I can’t do it. God 
knows I can’t!” poor Tim ended passionately. 

Fred Ellsworth, who had been standing with 
his head bent upon his breast, suddenly straight- 
ened. 

‘T will go for the child myself, Chief,” he said 
briefly, as he took his cap down from where it 
had been hanging against the wall. 

"Be careful how you break the sad news to her, 
Fred,” cautioned Dr. Gray in a low voice, as the 
young man passed him. 

"You may trust me, sir,” the young man an- 
swered impressively, and he was gone. 

"The welfare of my precious child will always 
be safe in our firemen’s hands,” and something 
almost like a smile hovered for a moment about 
the pale lips of the dying fireman as he dreamily 
uttered the words. 

He closed his eyes and lay perfectly still for a 


l8 THE fireman’s HEART 

short time, as though absorbed in thought, and 
then his eyes unclosed themselves and sought the 
face of his chief. 

“Bend your head lower. Chief; I have something 
to say to you,” he said. 

Chief McLain obeyed the request, and after 
listening intently a moment, raised his head. 

“Boys,” he said, “Lawrence wishes us after he 
has gone, to write to his father, Gen. Wm. Brad- 
ley, of Forestville, Alabama, and tell him that 
his son died with a prayer for forgiveness on his 
lips for the sorrow he had caused his father in 
the past.” 

“An’ it’s mesilf that don’t belave poor Larry 
iver harrmed a livin’ soul,” declared the loyal 
Tim, as he wiped the tears from his cheek on the 
sleeve of his jacket. 

“He gives his father as his dying bequest his 
orphan child, little Hyacinth, who when her 
father is no more, will have no living relative ex- 
cept her grandfather, who is abundantly able, if he 
wills it so, to care for the orphan girl,” contin- 
ued the chief. “But, boys, I must tell you that 
long years ago Lawrence Bradley had a serious 
misunderstanding with his father, which resulted 
in an open rupture between father and son which 
never has been healed. 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


19 


"Therefore the poor boy does not know whether 
his father will or will not accept his dying trust. 
The fear that he will not, and that his child will 
be thrown alone and penniless "upon the world, 
distracts his dying moments, and he wishes us, his 
trusted comrades, to promise — nay! swear, that 
whether his father accepts or rejects the gift of 
the child, that we will never lose our interest in 
her welfare and happiness, and that the^ same 
shall ever be as dear to our hearts as that we feel 
for our own mothers, wives, sisters, and children. 

"Boys, are you willing to bind yourselves by an 
oath to keep sacred this solemn promise? Ah! — ’’ 
proudly, “I know that you are. I read it in your 
tear-stained faces, and I know the noble hearts of 
my brave fire laddies too well to think that they 
would fail a comrade in his dying hour. Come 
closer, boys. Come where our poor Larry may 
see your faces while you take the oath. ” 

As the boys grouped themselves within vision 
of the dying fireman, the sound of galloping hoofs 
was borne in on the affecting scene. Carriage 
wheels stopped in front of the engine house, and 
the next moment a beautiful young girl, with h 2r 
long golden hair all disordered and floating about 
her shoulders, rushed into the engine house, and 


20 


THE fireman’s HEART 


with a heart-broken wail, threw herself on her 
knees beside the dying fireman. 

She was closely followed by Captain Ellsworth, 
who now stood protectingly beside her prostrate 
form, his own face almost as deathly in hue as 
that of the dying father, who drew the girl’s 
bright young head to his bosom. 

"Oh, papa, papa!" sobbed the girl, "what is the 
matter? Oh, how deathly you look! Oh, my God! 
Dr. Gray, please do something for him! Oh, 
what shall I do, what shall I do?” and the young 
mourner wrung her hands frantically together and 
looked up into the faces of the waiting firemen, 
with the agony of despair in her beautiful eyes. 

"Be quiet, my child, and listen to what I shall 
say to you,” spoke the voice of the dying man — a 
voice the child had never once disobeyed in her 
life, and which she now stopped her lamentations 
to listen to, as she knelt there with the calmness 
of despair settling over her young heart. 

"My darling,” continued the dying man, amid a 
silence otherwise as deep as that which reigns in 
the home of the sepulchered dead, "your 
father must leave you. God wills it so, 
and we must submit. I have not sufficient strength 
to say all that my heart prompts me to sav in this 


THE fireman’s HEART 


21 


hour of parting. Do not forget what I have tried 
to teach you, dear love. Live up to this teaching 
as well as you can, and the Father of the fatherless 
will never forsake you.” His hand rested a mo- 
ment caressingly on the bowed golden head of his 
child, and he lay with closed eyes and silently 
moving lips, and then he said: '‘Hyacinth, I have 
given you into the charge of my comrades, who 
will care for and protect you, and ever hold your 
happiness and welfare dear to their hearts. Be 
guided in all things by the advice of those noble 
boys, and you will never be alone or friendless. 
My darling, will you promise me this?” 

The girl took the hand of her father, which was 
already growing cold with the dew of death upon 
it, and pressing it to her lips, looked fondly into 
his eyes and said in a faltering voice: 

“Father, I promise you.” 

The eyes of the dying fireman sought those of 
Chief McLain with a significant look in their 
brown depths, and the chief swallowed hard to 
clear his throat of the mighty lump that for a time 
rendered him speechless. Then in a deeply im- 
pressive tone of voice he addressed the group of 
firemen: 

“Boys, are you ready to take this oath?” 


22 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“Chief, we are ready,” came from the pale, 
firm lips of Foreman Ellsworth. 

Again the chief’s voice broke the stillness, as 
each fireman removed his cap and lifted his right 
hand in readiness to take upon himself the solemn 
obligation. 

“Do you, members of this hose company, each 
and every one, solemnly swear that from this mo- 
ment Hyacinth, the child of Lawrence Bradley 
here present, shall become your special care, and 
that whether this child remains in Arizona or 
goes elsewhere to reside, you will never lose your 
interest in her welfare and happiness, and if nec- 
essary, shelter, protect and educate her, and if 
needs be, defend her with your lives?” 

An expression of unutterable peace stole into 
the eyes of the dying fireman as clear and distinct 
the answer came in a chorus: 

“We solemnly swear.” 


CHAPTER II. 


“Why need I go, Chief? I am far happier and 
more contented here than I should be amongst 
strangers,’’ and Hyacinth Bradley, with her bright 
eyes full of tears, looked appealingly into the 
kind face of Chief McLain, as he finished reading 
the letter aloud which her grandfather, Gen. Brad- 
ley, had sent, accompanied by a generous sum of 
money, with the request that the child be sent 
immediately to the home of her grandfather. 

The time was one month after Lawrence Brad- 
ley’s death, and the place the happy home of 
Chief McLain, into the protecting shades of which 
the young orphan had been carried immediately 
after her father’s burial. 

“Your own grandfather should not be a stranger 
to you. Hyacinth,’’ the chief answered mildly, as 
he regarded the tear-stained young face of the ques- 
tioner. 

“But he is. Chief. Why, I never even knew of 
his existence until a year ago,” the girl replied 
earnestly. 


23 


24 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“How did you discover it then, my dear?" he 
asked. 

“It was one day when I was arranging the 
things in dear papa’s trunk for him,” replied the 
child. “In the bottom of the trunk I found a 
package wrapped up in, oh, ever so many wrap- 
pings! ‘What is this, papa?’, said I from where 
I was kneeling beside the trunk. I held the pack- 
age toward him as I spoke, but he was deeply 
absorbed in reading ‘The Fireman’s Flerald,’ and 
did not notice that I had spoken to him. So I 
sat down on the floor and unwound the wrappings 
from the parcel, and when the last one was taken 
off, the face of a grand looking old gentleman, 
with very stern eyes, looked up at me. I sat look- 
ing at the face for a long time, for somehow it 
made me think of papa’s face, although, of course, 
papa’s was much younger and not half so stern 
as that of the picture. After a while' I got up with 
the picture in my hand, and going to papa’s side, 
said: ‘Papa, do tell me whose picture this is, 

please. ’ He looked up from his reading and when 
he saw the photograph in my hand his face flushed 
very red and then grew so white that I was fright- 
ened, and turning away I said: ‘Never mind telling 
me, papa. I’ll put the photograph back in your 


THE fireman’s HEART 


25 


trunk.’ But papa caught me by my arm and took 
me on his lap and said, as his eyes rested on the 
photograph in my hand: ‘Hyacinth, this is a 
photograph of your grandfather, Gen. Bradley.’ 
'Is it?’ I said. ‘How long has he been dead, 
papa?’ 

“‘He is not dead, rny child,’ papa answered. 

“‘Not dead?’ said I. ‘Why, where does he live, 
and why does he never visit or write to us, then?’ 

“Papa brushed my hair back from my forehead 
and looked long and earnestly into my eyes and 
then said: 

“ ‘If I were to explain to you. Hyacinth, why 
this is so, I should have to tell a very sad story, 
and one that you are too young to hear.’ 

“‘Was he unkind to you, papa?’ I asked, for he 
looked very sad. ‘If he was, I intend to hate 
him as long as I live.’ 

“ ‘That would be very wrong of you, ’ papa said 
gently. 

“‘Will you not tell me all about it, papa?’ 

“‘Not now. Hyacinth. You are too young to 
understand it. If we both live until you have 
reached your fifteenth birthday, I will tell you all 
about it. Put the photograph where you found it, 
and never mention the subject to me again, until 
I have first spoken to you about it.’ 


26 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


“I did as papa bade me, and put the photo- 
graph away and have never seen it since, nor did 
papa ever mention his father to me again. But, 
Chief, I never shall forget the sad, yes, even heart- 
broken expression of dear papa’s face when he 
told me that his father was still living, and I 
shall always believe that my grandfather was very 
unkind to him, or caused him great sorrow in 
some way. And now” — the young voice had al- 
ready begun to tremble as though freighted with 
tears — “and now you want me to leave all my true 
and kind friends, whom I love so rnuch, and to 
whose loving care papa committed me with hi§ 
last breath, and go to live with an old gentleman 
whom I have never known or scarcely ever heard 
of, and one whom we have every reason to believe 
was not a friend to papa, although he was his 
own father — Oh, Chief, Chief, I did not think this 
of you. I never dreamed that you -would be so 
unkind to me,” and the girl burst into tempes- 
tuous weeping and buried her face in her hands. 

Chief McLain looked greatly disturbed at his 
prot^g^’s manifestation of grief. He took a few 
hurried turns across the floor, and then pausing 
before the girl, said tenderly as he took her hands 
from her face and looked into her tearful eyes: 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


27 

“Hyacinth, will you listen to what I have to 
say to you, my child?” 

“Chief, don’t tell me that I must go to live 
with my grandfather,” the girl entreated passion- 
ately. 

“Just listen to what I wish to say to you. Hya- 
cinth, and then if you still object to going to re- 
side with Gen. Bradley you shall not go,” the chief 
answered with great earnestness. “Will you give 
me your attention?” 

“I will. Chief. But let me assure you that noth- 
ing any one can say to me will make me willing 
to turn my back on the graves of my parents, and 
the town where I have lived all my life, and on 
my sworn friends, the ‘Alerts,’ and go to reside 
with strangers in a strange land, ” Hyacinth assured 
him in a voice which rang out with as much de- 
cision as that which had characterized old Gen- 
eral Bradley in his youth. 

“We shall see,” the chief remarked knowingly, 
and then continued very gently: 

“Hyacinth, the day that your father received his 
fatal injuries and was carried into the engine 
house, as soon as he knew that his hours on earth 
were ended, he called the members of our hose 
Company around his cot, gave us his father’s ad- 


28 


THE fireman’s HEART 


dress, and bade us write and tell his father that 
his son had died with a prayer of forgiveness on 
his lips for the sorrow he had caused his only 
living parent. 

‘“Tell him,’ he added, ‘that as a token of the 
deep contrition I feel for the past and of my for- 
giveness for the part my father, thinking it was for 
my best, took against me, I bequeath to him my 
only child, my beloved Hyacinth, who to me has 
been an angel sent from God to keep my heart 
from breaking with the load of grief it has had 
to bear. And with this dying bequest I add the 
prayer, that the child may prove to be the bless- 
ing to her grandparent that she has been to her 
father, and that through her sweet administrations 
the shadow of sorrow which was his son’s unhappy 
lot to create, may vanish forever from his declin- 
ing years.’ Then he proceeded to bind us by the 
oath which you heard repeated, and peacefully 
breathed his last, happy in the thought that your 
future was provided for, and that you would re- 
deem your promise to him, and be guided in all 
things appertaining to your welfare by your sworn 
friends, the firemen. 

“Should those friends, dear child, follow their 
own selfish inclinations, regardless of your fa* 


THE fireman’s HEART 29 

ther’s dying request, or what may ultimately be 
greatly to your benefit financially, they would ad- 
vise you to remain with them, and refuse all over- 
tures for a recognition of the relationship between 
Gen. Bradley and yourself. But were they to do 
so, they would indeed be recreant to the trust your 
father reposed in them, and for which they will 
be held accountable before the judgment bar of 
God. Now, Hyacinth, make your decision. Will 
you obey your grandfather’s summons, or will 
you remain with your friends in Fairfield?” 

Hyacinth’s tears had ceased to flow long before 
the chief finished his argumentative speech, and 
as he paused for her answer, she looked up at 
him with dry eyes in which filial love, obedience 
and firm resolution shone, and answered: 

‘‘Chief, you may tell my grandfather that I am 
ready to come to him, and that I shall try my 
best to be a good girl, and fill a daughter’s place 
in his heart.” 


CHAPTER III. 


Chief McLain lost no time in informing Gen. 
Bradley of his granddaughter’s decision, and 
added that a few days later the child, accompa- 
nied by a female traveling companion and himself, 
would start on her southward journey. 

Mrs. Turner, an old lady, and in every way a 
worthy woman, who had kept house for Lawrence 
Bradley and taken care of the little Hyacinth 
since her mother’s death, which occurred when 
the child was only a few months old, was stricken 
with a serious illness soon after Mr. Bradley’s 
death. 

The old lady had fondly hoped to recover her 
health sufficiently to be able to accompany her 
foster-child, for whom she had the most sincere 
affection, to her Southern home, and the time for 
Hyacinth’s departure had been postponed several 
weeks with the hope that she might do so. 

But much to the disappointment of the firemen, 
and the grief of Hyacinth and Mrs. Turner, health 
30 







THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


31 


did not return to the invalid, and she was forced 
to relinquish the care of her darling to other 
hands. 

Great pains were taken by Hyacinth’s friends 
to find a person in every way fitted to assume the 
position. But they found this to be indeed a diffi- 
cult thing to accomplish. 

“If Mother Turner could only go with me, it 
wouldn’t seem quite so lonely. But just think of 
it, Fred; when I go to Forestville, and the chief 
returns home, every one of my friends will be 
hundreds of miles away from me. What shall I 
do then?” Hyacinth confided to Captain Ells- 
worth a few days before the time appointed for 
her departure. 

“You will soon make new friends and plenty of 
them, Hyacinth,” Fred answered cheerfully. 

“I don’t want to make new friends, and I in- 
tend to spend nearly my whole time writing home 
to you all for fear you will forget me. ” 

“As if we could ever forget our little Hyacinth!” 
Captain Fred said, reproachfully. “But, Hya- 
cinth, I will tell you what I have made -up my 
mind to do. I have long had a desire to reside 
in the South, and just as soon as I am able to 
make arrangements to that effect, I shall remove 
my business to Forestville.” 


32 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“Oh, Fred, will you do that?” cried Hyacinth, 
clapping her dimpled hands in delight. 

“Yes. I was speaking to the chief about it yes- 
terday, and he is much in favor of the proposed 
removal. So you see. Hyacinth, that you may 
not get rid of the presence of your old friends as 
easily as you imagined,” laughed Captain Fred. 

“You mean thing to say that!” pouted the girl. 
“But Fred, shall you still be a fireman if you go 
to live at Forestville?” 

“Certainly I shall,” laughed Captain Fred. “Can 
you imagine me but of the fire company?” 

“No, I can not, and I don’t want to, either. 
Why, you have been a fireman ever since I can 
remember. I don’t believe I should love you half 
as well if you were to cease to be a fireman,” 
said the girl artlessly. 

“I shall live and die a fireman after hearing that 
assertion, I assure you child,” he laughingly an- 
swered. 

“Honor bright?” she said, taking both his hands 
in hers as he stood before her. 

“Yes, ‘honor bright’ I shall live and die a fire- 
man, Hyacinth.” He disengaged his right hand 
from hers as he spoke, and slipping his fingers 
into his vest pocket, drew out a small enamel box. 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


33 


and presenting it to her, continued: “And here is 
a little token of the pledge. Put it on your finger, 
little girl, and when you happen to notice it, re- 
member that it is saying to you, ‘Fred Ellsworth 
will live and die a fireman.”’ 

She dropped his left hand, and taking the box, 
opened it with childish curiosity, and drew forth 
a small, heavy, plain gold ring. 

“Oh, what a beauty!” she exclaimed. "Is it 
really for me, Fred?” and her eyes sparkled as 
she asked the question. 

“Yes, dear, really for you, if you will accept 
it,” he answered. 

As the girl turned the golden band around in 
her fingers, the light from the window revealed 
the inscription which appeared in neat German 
text on the inside, and she read, “From F. to H.” 

“Mizpah. ” 

“Mizpah,” — she turned the ring slowly in her 
fingers as she scrutinized and spelled the word, 
and then stood with a puzzled expression on her 
face, while he stood smiling down upon her tiny 
figure from his towering height of six feet. 

“What does ‘Mizpah’ mean, Fred?” she asked 
at length. 

“Don’t you know, Hyacinth? How we have 


34 


THE fireman’s HEART 

neglected your education, child!” he answered 
teasingly. 

"Now, Fred, don’t tease me. Tell me what 
‘Mizpah’ means. I never heard such an odd word 
as that before,” she said poutingly. 

"Well, little girl, ‘Mizpah’ means, ‘May the 
Lord watch between thee and me while we are 
parted one from another,’ ” he replied seriously. 

“What a beautiful motto!” the child exclaimed. 
“How did you come to think of it, Fred?” 

“My heart prompted the thought, dear, because 
I so deeply regret even the short parting that must 
soon take place between us,” he said with much 
feeling. 

"But the parting will not be for long, because, 
if you do not soon follow me, I shall come back 
to my old home,” she comforted, as she slipped 
the ring on her plump white finger,-beside another 
ring set with pearls and turquoise. “See,” she 
continued proudly, “I shall wear it on the same 
finger with the ring dear papa gave me on my 
last birthday. Oh, how pretty they are, and how 
much, how very much, I love the ones who gave 
them to me ! ” 

She pressed her lips to the glittering trinkets 
as she spoke, while the man regarded the child- 


THE fireman’s HEART 


35 

ish face and figure before him with a look of ado- 
ration shining in his fine eyes. 

“Well, ril declare!" exclaimed Mrs. McLain, 
coming suddenly upon the scene. “I have looked 
this town over until I am worn out, and I haven’t 
found any one yet who suits me for Hyacinth’s 
traveling companion. I was just thinking as I 
came home that if it were possible for me to leave 
the children so long, I would go with the child 
myself," and the plump little matron threw her- 
self wearily into an arm-chair, and began to pull 
off her gloves. 

“Ah! please go with me, dear Mrs. McLain, 
can’t you?" pleaded Hyacinth, coming and sitting 
down on an ottoman at the lady’s feet. 

“No, dear; much as I should be delighted to 
do so, it would be impossible, " the lady answered. 

“Did you go to see Miss Sophia Christopher 
about her going?" asked Chief McLain, coming 
into the parlor from the piazza where he had been 
sitting, engaged in reading. 

“Yes, Frank," the lady answered. “I had a 
long talk with her. She is very anxious to go. 
But I am not favorably impressed with her some 
way. " 

“What are your objections to the lady?" her hus- 


36 


-THE fireman’s HEART 


band asked, as he took the last number of "The 
Fireman’s Standard" from the center table and, 
sitting down, began to cut open its first leaves. 

"I can hardly explain what my objections .to 
her are,” Mrs. McLain answered thoughtfully. 

"It is just another case of ‘I do not like you, 
Dr. Fell,’ eh, Mrs. McLain?” laughed Captain 
Fred from his seat in the window. 

"Well, I suppose it must be so, for I don’t 
like Miss Christopher, and I can’t tell the reason 
why. But I think that she will be the only lady 
whom we shall be able to get to accompany our 
little girl south,” she answered, smiling back on 
the young man. "It may be that it was Miss 
Christopher’s assumption of such very youthful 
and gushing airs, that prejudiced me against her. 
Why, she must at least be forty' years old, and 
she dresses and assumes the. manner of a girl of 
eighteen. As soon as I began to talk to her about 
going she said that she hoped I would not con- 
sider her too young for the position. ‘For,’ said 
she, ‘I am oMer than I look, dear Mrs. McLain. Just 
think of it; I shall be twenty years old in three 
months more, and I assure you I begin to feel 
quite ancient.’ 

"I stared at her in surprise a moment, and she 
giggled and said: 


THE fireman’s HEART 


37 


"‘You never should have taken me for that age, 
should you, Mrs. McLain?” she said merrily. 

‘“No, indeed I should not,’ I answered, as I 
looked sharply into her face, and added mentally: 
‘You will never see your fortieth birthday again.’” 

‘‘I wonder why she is so silly as to deny her 
true age,” said Hyacinth thoughtfully from her 
place on the footstool. "Why, I should be de- 
lighted to be forty years old, for then I should 
know such a lot more than I do now. ” 

They all laughed at the child’s speech, and 
Chief McLain said: 

"Well, perhaps Miss Christopher knows ‘a lot’ 
also. So I think, as the time has long since ex- 
pired for us to fulfill our promise to Gen. Bradley, 
that we had better accept Miss Christopher’s ser- 
vices as the only chance for a traveling compan- 
ion for Hyacinth, and start on our journey the 
day after to-morrow.” 

"Yes, Chief, you will go with them, and Miss 
Christopher’s services, however objectionable she 
may be for the position ultimately, can be utilized 
for the occasion of the journey, and after Hya- 
cinth’s arrival in Forestville, a more suitable com- 
panion may be secured for her, and Miss Chris- 
topher sent back to Fairfield,” argued Captain 
Fred. 


38 


THE fireman’s HEART 


So it was settled, and two days later the fire- 
men’s little prot^g^, with many sobs and tears, 
bade her tearful friends good-bye, and in company 
with Chief McLain and Miss Christopher, started 
on her southward journey. 

“Remember that if I do not like the appearance 
of things when I get to grandpapa’s house, I am 
coming right straight back home with the chief,” 
Hyacinth put her head out of the car window and 
assured her friends on the platform, every member 
of the Alert Hose Company, who had come with 
their wives and children, mothers and sisters, to 
see their adopted child off on her journey. 

“That’s right.” “Be sure you do this. Hya- 
cinth.” “I hope the chief will bring you back 
with him,” came in a chorus from the platform 
as the cars glided away. 

“Faith and be jabbers, but it’s Tim O’Brian 
who’s afther pitying de grandfither of our little 
gurrel if he ain’t a foirman,” and Tim took out 
his red bandanna and blowing his nose lustily, 
turned and walked sadly away. 


CHAPTER IV. 


In the spacious parlor of an aristocratic man- 
sion in Forestville, Alabama, two men were seated 
engaged in earnest conversation. 

One was an old gentleman, the features of whose 
pale face were marked with “lines of grief’s own 
tracing. “ 

It was plain to see that he had been a kingly 
appearing man in his day, one who was born to 
command. But now there was something pitiful 
in the saddened curve of the old imperious lips, 
and the subdued light in the dim eyes that once 
held spell-bound assembled multitudes by their 
magnetic force. Even a casual observer, and 
one not deeply versed in reading mental condi- 
tions in the human face, would, after five minutes’ 
conversation with Gen. Bradley, have decided 
that, millionaire though he be, he was far from be- 
ing a happy or contented man. 

His companion on this morning in which we 
introduce him to our readers, was a fine and styl- 
39 


40 


THE fireman’s HEART 


ish appearing young man of perhaps twenty-eight 
years. 

He had a soft, insinuating voice, and his man- 
ner toward the old gentleman was almost caress- 
ing in its tenderness. One, however, who had 
made human nature' a study, would have detected 
a false ring in the soft voice, and a cunning, sin- 
ister light in Jack Wilton’s eyes which said as 
plainly as if the words had been traced in indel- 
ible ink on his low white forehead, “Here is a 
man who is not trustworthy. Beware of him, 
beware!” 

For five years this young man had been the 
private secretary and confidential friend of Gen. 
Bradley, and so dexterously had he played his 
cards that he now held complete possession of 
the heart of the lonely old millionaire. 

If any further evidence had been wanted to make 
undeniable the last named fact, it had been fur- 
nished a few weeks previous to the opening of this 
chapter, by Gen. Bradley’s having drawn and 
legally executed a will, making Jack Wilton his 
sole heir, and the private secretary’s heart sang 
a paean of joy for having so well succeeded in 
carrying out his cunning and well laid plans. 

“If Lawrence had only heeded, my advice in- 


THE fireman’s HEART 


41 


stead of leaving home in anger and going on that 
wild goose chase out west, this untimely fate 
would have been spared him,” Gen. Bradley said 
sadly. 

"How long is it since your son left home, sir?” 
asked his companion sympathetically. 

"Fifteen years; he was then a bright and prom- 
ising young man, nearing his majority.” 

Mr. Wilton closed the book, the pages of which 
he had been idly turning, and getting up, placed 
it on the table, and taking a seat nearer where the 
speaker sat, again questioned: 

"Have you never seen your son since he went 
out west?” 

"Never,” Gen. Bradley returned in a deeply 
depressed voice. "He wrote me soon after his ar- 
rival in Arizona, imploring my forgiveness for his 
rashness, and hinted that if this favor was granted 
him, he would return home at once. But I was 
deeply incensed at his conduct, and thought I 
would teach him a lesson by withholding the as- 
surance of my forgiveness for a time, and then 
write and recall him home. When a year later, 
however, I wrote to the address he had given me, 
telling him to come home and all differences be- 
tween us would be forgotten, the letter was re- 


42 


THE fireman’s HEART 


turned to me as uncalled for. I have never heard 
from the boy since, although I have tried in every 
way to discover his whereabouts, until this letter 
came a month since informing me of his death. 
Ah, poor boy!” he continued very sadly, “had his 
dear mother not died in his infancy, this estrange- 
ment between us would never have happened.” 

“Would you mind telling me how the trouble 
between you and Lawrence came about, sir? Tak- 
ing such a deep interest in your happiness and 
all that concerns you, I have always had a great 
curiosity to learn on what possible pretext your son 
could have taken offense at such a kind and in- 
dulgent father as I know you must have been to 
him. But I have always forced my curiosity into 
subordination to my tenderness for you, and as 
you did not voluntarity give me your confidence, 
I. have forborne to a?k for it. But of late I have 
heard a rumor that you had been very cruel to- 
ward your son. I refuted the slander hotly, and 
came near getting into a fight over it. Then I 
was told that I knew nothing about the affair, and 
would change my opinion of it when I heard the 
story. I cursed my tormentors for the lying knaves 
they are, and left them. But on my way home, in 
thinking about it, I concluded to make bold and 


THE fireman’s HEART 


43 


ask you for a true version of the affair; and if 
you feel inclined to relate it to me, I trust that I 
need not assure you your confidence will never be 
betrayed by me,” Jack Wilton said in his softest 
and most caressing tones. 

“Well, lad,” sighed the old gentleman, “I should 
have told you about the unhappy affair long since, 
for you deserve my confidence in all things. But 
I am so weak I could not bear to tear open the 
old wounds. ” 

“Neither need you do so now,” Mr. Wilton 
said quickly. “Forget that I made the request. 
I ought to be ashamed of myself, to be so unfeel- 
ing. Will you not forgive me, sir?” and the eyes 
of the owner of the self-accusing voice looked 
pleadingly into the tear-misty eyes of the be- 
reaved father. 

“Certainly, Jack,” the old gentleman answered, 
and then continued in a resolute voice: “But 
you have a right to hear the sad story which I am 
now about to relate to you, and at its close I 
doubt not but that you will be satisfied. I de- 
serve all the hard things which you have heard 
said of me. ” 

“Never, sir, never,” Mr. Wilton answered with 
great earnestness. “Though the whole world 


44 


THE fireman’s HEART 


should testify that you have been unjust to any 
living being, much less to your own son, I would 
hurl the lie back into its face.” 

“No one ever loved me as you do. Jack, not 
even Lawrence himself. Had he done so, ah, the 
sorrow that had been spared me!” Gen. Bradley 
said in tremulous voice, and getting up, he took 
a few hurried turns across the floor of the lofty 
apartment, with his head bent low in troublous 
thoughts. 

Mr. Wilton watched the old gentleman with a 
great show of sympathy for a few moments, and 
then said tenderly: 

“I fear that this agitation will cause you to fall 
ill. You don’t know how grieved I am that this 
fresh sorrow has come upon you, sir.” 

“I know that you are, lad, and it is very selfish 
of me to give way to my feelings in your presence 
and thus distress you,” the old gentleman said 
considerately, and sitting down in a large arm- 
chair, he leaned his gray head wearily against the 
cushions and continued: 

"I should have related the circumstance which 
led to this sorrow in my life before now to you, 
for you deserve my confidence in all things. But 
it was such a grievous wound to me, and it left a 


N 


THE fireman’s HEART 


45 


cankering sore in my heart that I have always 
weakly shrunk from touching.” 

“Do not do so now, I implore you,” the young 
man said, with a show of great concern for the old 
gentleman’s feelings. “How cruel of me to seek 
to torture your feelings, to satisfy what you may 
consider idle curiosity! Forgive me and forget 
that I made the request.” 

“Bear with me. Jack,” Gen. Bradley answered. 
“I will leave my vain lamentations and proceed 
at once to tell you what caused the estrangement 
between my only child and myself, because I feel 
that the time has come when you should no longer 
be kept in ignorance of it. Bring me a glass of 
wine.” 

The young man rose with alacrity to obey the 
request, and going to a side-table in the room, 
poured out a glass of sparkling wine from a de- 
canter which stood upon it, and brought it to 
his friend. 

Gen. Bradley drank the contents and said, as 
he handed the empty glass back to his compan- 
ion: 

“I shall feel stronger now. Sit down, lad, and 
listen to my story. 




CHAPTER V. 

"Ever since long before Lawrence was born I 
had had a man employed on my estate as over- 
seer named Ben Johnston. This man and 
his wife resided in the overseer’s house on 
my Fernwood plantation, which you know lies 
two miles west of Forestville, ’’ Gen. Bradley 
began. "The couple had only one child, a girl 
three years younger than Lawrence. Johnston and 
his wife were industrious and honest people, but 
like most people of their class, were very illiterate. 

"Their illiteracy, however, made no difference 
to me. They were good and faithful servants, 
and never intruded their presence in a social way 
upon my family or myself. When my son was a 
small boy, I often used to take him with me when 
I drove out to Fernwood to look after the affairs 
of the plantation, and at such times I would leave 
the boy in Mrs. Johnston’s care while I drove 
over the plantation, the business of which would 
sometimes detain me for hours. Johnston’s little 
46 


N 


THE fireman’s HEART 


47 


girl, whose name was Dora, was a pretty and 
bright little thing, and the two children became 
great friends. When they grew older, they both 
attended the same village school, and the attach- 
ment between them increased with their years. I 
thought nothing of it. It was only a boyish fancy 
on Lawrence’s part, I told myself, that would 
vanish as the boy advanced toward manhood. 

“When Lawrence was fourteen years of age, I 
sent him to Maryland to complete his education. 
He was absent from home six years, only return- 
ing home each year during a short vacation. 

“While making these home visits he often saw 
Dora at her home, when he drove with me out to 
Fernwood, or would see her at church or on the 
street, and was much impressed by her beauty and 
lady-like demeanor. 

“But the girl was very modest and shy of his 
admiring glances, and appeared to avoid meeting 
him whenever it was possible to do so. 

“‘Dora is not the least like she once was,’ Law- 
rence said to me "as we drove home through the 
twilight shadows one summer evening, after a visit 
to view the growing crops at Fernwood. She 
was the j oiliest little girl I ever knew, and now 
she will hardly speak to me.’ 


48 


THE fireman’s HEART 


'“She is a very sensible girl/ I replied. ‘You 
are almost a young man now, Lawrence, and she 
has seen enough to recognize the wide difference 
in your relative positions — sensible girl, very sen- 
sible — and I hope she may marry some good 
young fellow of her own class and be happy and 
prosperous. ’ 

“ ‘Dora would never be happy with an ignorant 
boor for her husband,’ he replied, flushing a deep 
red that was visible to my eye even in the even- 
ing’s dusky light. ‘I remember when we went 
, to school together she was the brightest scholar 
by far in school, and I understand that her father 
has given her good educational advantages.’ 

"‘So much the worse for her if he has,’ I an- 
swered testily. ‘I do not believe in educating 
young people beyond the position they are likely 
to occupy in after life. That so many young peo- 
ple of Dora’s class are at the present day receiv- 
ing what I consider wholly superfluous learning, 
is the cause of much of the discontent and dis- 
inclination for honest labor that we witness among 
them, and it’s bound to lead to trouble. In my 
young days it was not so. -If the children of old 
Ben Johnston’s class were taught reading, writing 
and the simplest rules of arithmetic, it was con- 


tliE FIREMAN^S HEART 


49 


sidered all that was necessary, and they were a 
better and happier class of people than the rising 
generation is likely to be.’ 

“My son made no reply, but I felt intuitively 
that he was not convinced by my argument. 

“When Lawrence reached his twentieth year he 
finished his studies and returned home. The boy 
had made a splendid record at college, and my 
pride in him knew no bounds. 

“In discussing his future with me shortly after 
his return home from college, the boy expressed 
a desire to follow in my footsteps and become a 
planter instead of entering a professional life, and 
I was well pleased with his decision. 

“ ‘I will build you an elegant house on the Fern- 
wood plantation, and deed the place to you, and 
by and by you will marry one of the pretty girls 
in your set and settle down to the peaceful life 
of a planter. For quiet and elegant independ- 
ence, no other business will compare with the 
life of a planter,’ I said proudly, happy in the 
thought that the future held no dark shadows for 
either my darling son or myself. 

“So it came about that Lawrence spent several 
hours almost daily at Fernwood. This fact gave 
me no uneasiness. It was quite natural that the 


50 THE fireman’s HEART 

boy should take an interest in the place, as it was 
to be his home, and I admired his zeal in seeking 
to master the details of the business of the plan- 
tation before taking possession as its master. One 
fine May morning, three months after Lawrence 
had made the decision to become a planter, he 
mounted his horse and galloped away toward Fern- 
wood. I noticed the very happy expression on 
his face on this particular morning, and congratu- 
lated myself on the boy’s happy disposition, and 
that he was taking so kindly to the life he had 
chosen. 

"I repaired to my study to look over and answer 
my daily correspondence; but it was not long un- 
til I was interrupted by a servant who informed 
me that an old negro from Fernwood wanted to 
speak to me. 

‘"What does he want, Dan?’ I inquired of the 
messenger, for I was busy and did not wish to be 
disturbed. 

'"I don’t know, massa. I tole him you was 
’gaged in de study, an’ he’d better not pester you, 
but ole Cato is dat hard-headed he won’t take 
no ’vice from nobody, but says he mus’ see you 
right off on particuler bisness. ’ 

"‘Send him in,’ I said, as I laid aside my pen 
and waited the old man’s coming. 


THE fireman’s HEART 


51 


“Uncle Cato was the oldest negro on the plan- 
tation; he had belonged to my father, had been 
my attendant when I was a boy, and was a born 
aristocrat, very proud of his master’s name and 
family. 

“He came shuffling into the study with a deeply 
troubled look on his old face. ‘Mawnin’, Massa, ’ 
he said, bowing and pulling his gray forelock as 
he stood before me. q 

“‘Well, Uncle Cato,’ I said, ‘what can I do for 
you this morning? Has the overseer or any of the 
niggers been imposing on you?’ 

“‘No, Massa William,’ the old man replied, 
‘ebrybody treat ole Cato fustrate, sah. But dar’s 
sompen dat troubles his min’ mighty bad, massa. ’ 

“‘Well, what is it, Cato?’ 

“ ‘Massa, foh Gawd, I does hate to pester you, 
but I jest made up my min’ las’ night dat dis 
t’ing had gone on long ernou^h, and you ort to 
be tole so you’d put a stop to it, sah.’ 

“‘What are you talking about, Cato?’ 

“‘Well, sah, I’se talkin’ about Massa Larry. 
De way dat boy is gwin on wid ole Ben Johnsen’s 
gal is enough to make his maw, my young missus, 
rare up out ’er grabe, sah.’ 

“‘What do you mean. Uncle Cato?’ I said at 


52 


THE fireman’s HEART 


last, taking alarm at the old man’s words. ‘What 
has your young master done?’ 

" 'Gwad only know, Massa, what de boy is a 
studying about. But he comes out to de planta- 
tion ebry day dat Gwad sen’s, an’ from de time he 
come tel he go away agin, he’s wid ole Ben John- 
sen’s gal all de time. So Ben an’ his ole ’oman 
don’t do nothin’ to try to ’vent it, but jest let 
dem young folks cawy on jest as dey please. I tell 
you, Massa, old Cato is an ole man, but he ain’t 
blin’, an’ he knows a heap o’ t’ings yit, an ’if 
you don’t make Massa Larry ’have hisself an’ let 
dat gal alone, dar’s gwin to be trouble, mitC now 
I’se tellin’ you, massa.’ 

r '“I don’t suppose your young massa means any 
harm. Uncle Cato,’ I said, hiding my own fears 
and trying to quiet the old man’s. ‘Boys will be 
boys, you know. But I’ll ride out to the planta- 
tion and see about things this morning. Tell Dan 
to saddle my horse and bring him around imme- 
diately — and. Uncle Cato,’ I said, as the old man 
turned to go. ‘Mind that you don’t say anything 
about what you have told me to any one else.’ 

“‘Ah, Lawd! you trus’ ole Cato foh dat, Massa 
William,’ the old man answered as he turned to 
leave the room. ‘None dem young niggers bettah 


THE fireman’s HEART 


53 


not be sayin’ nothin’ agin my young massa to me, 
shore’s you er bawn dey bettah not, massa.’ 

"In a few moments my horse was brought to 
the door, and 1 sprang into the saddle and started 
to go out to Fernwood. 

"When I had ridden half the distance and was 
in the middle of a shady lane, I met my son re- 
turning home. 

"Each reined up his horse as we met, and after 
a few commonplace remarks had passed betweap 
us, I said cautiously: 

"‘Lawrence, I don’t like the notion of your 
spending so much time in Dora Johnston’s com- 
pany. It is not fair to the girl. It will injure 
her reputation, for people are bound to talk about 
her if you persist in your attentions to her.’ 

"His face turned crimson as he listened to my 
speech, and as soon as he recovered from his sur- 
prise sufficiently- to speak, he said^ hotly and with 
flashing eyes: 

"'I dare any man, woman or child to breathe 
one word derogatory to Dora Johnston’s character. 
She is as pure as an angel in heaven.’ 

"‘That may all be true, my son,’ I said sooth- 
ingly. ‘I know that you are too honorable to 
knowingly do anything that would jeopardize the 


54 


THE fireman’s HEART 


girl’s good name. But you are young and thought- 
less, so I think that you had best remain away 
from Fernwood for a short time, and I will give 
Johnston the charge of my Lake View plantation 
and have him remove his family there as soon as 
possible, and I will employ another overseer for 
Fernwood.’ 

“The blood had receded from my son’s face as 
he listened to my proposition, and he was pale to 
the very lips as he answered: 

‘“The time has come, father, when you must 
know my true feelings toward Dora Johnston. I 
love her with as honest a passion as man ever 
felt for woman, and I have promised, and intend 
to fullfil that promise, to marry her when I have 
reached my majority, which time, you know, is 
only three months distant.’ 

“The suddenness of the announcement, as well 
as the determined voice in which it was spoken, 
came to me with such a terrible shock that I fairly 
reeled in my saddle as though I had received a 
stunning blow in the face. 

“‘What do you mean, sir?’ I roared out at 
length. ‘How dare you sit there and tell me to 
my face that you intend to disgrace your family 
by an alliance with old Ben Johnston’s daughter, 


THE fireman’s HEART 


55 


a man, sir, who belongs to the poor white trash 
of the South, and is very little, if any, superior 
to the negroes. Retract those words before I 
horsewhip you, sir!’ and I rode nearer to him 
and brandished my whip in his face. 

“He moved his horse a few steps from me and 
replied through his set teeth: 

“'It is well for you, sir, that I do not forget 
the fact that you are my father. Were I to do 
so you would retract your words or one of us 
would have to die. 

“ 'I have said it, and I repeat the words. If I 
live I shall make Dora Johnston my wife. Aye, 
not only do I swear to make her my wife, but I 
will do so before the sun that now shines above 
us sinks behind yonder horizon,’ and putting 
spurs to his horse, the infuriated boy galloped 
away, leaving me dazed and trembling from the 
awful sorrow that had so suddenly confronted me. 

“I felt paralyzed for a moment, and sat watch- 
ing his retreating figure until horse and rider dis- 
appeared from view by a turn in the shady road. 

“Then sinking the spurs into the side of my 
own horse, I fairly flew over the distance which 
lay between me and Fernwobd. 


CHAPTER VI. 


"When I reached the overseer’s house, I sprang 
from my saddle, and tossing the reins to a negro 
boy, entered the gate and strode angrily up to the 
door and rapped loudly with the butt of my rid- 
ing whip. 

"The front door, as well as the door of the hall 
leading to the back part of the house, stood open, 
and I saw the overseer and his family seated at 
the noonday meal in the passageway that divided 
the kitchen from the main part of the house. 

"Little feet came tripping across the passage, 
and down the hall, and Dora Johnston stood be- 
fore me. Even in my anger I noted the pretty pic- 
ture the girl made as she stood there in her neat 
and simple dress of white, with the color coming 
and going in her delicate face. 

"‘I called to see your father,’ I said gruffly, with- 
out answering her polite salutation. 

" ‘Please walk into the parlor. I will call 
father,’ she answered, with a look of alarm coming 
into her beautiful eyes. 

56 


THE fireman’s HEART 


57 


" ‘No, I will wait here,’ I answered shortly, and 
the girl went on her errand. 

‘I want to know, Ben Johnston, what you and 
your wife mean by getting my son entangled in 
a love affair with your daughter,’ I burst forth 
angrily, as soon as the man made his appearance. 
'You are trying to inveigle him into a marriage 
with her, I suppose — mere stripling that he is, 
not old enough to understand your villainy, in try- 
ing, for the sake of his wealth and position, to en- 
trap him into this awful misalliance.’ 

“The man looked at me a moment in open- 
eyed amazement, and then answered with his 
slow drawl: 

"'Gineral, we’ve done no such a thing. I’ve 
tried to break it up from the start. Both me and 
my wife tole the young folks that you’d never 
agree to the match, and they needn’t set their 
hearts on it — No sir — I knowed you’d raise an aw- 
ful rumpus when you heerd how matters was go- 
in’. But Mr. Larry ’lowed you’d consent to any- 
thing that would make him happy.’ 

'"That shows what a fool he is,’ I retorted, 'to 
think I would ever consent to a marriage between 
him and my overseer’s daughter.’ 

“Mrs. Johnston, who had been listening to the 


58 


THE fireman’s HEART 


angry altercation between her husband and my- 
self from the door of the dining-room, now came 
boldly forward and said in great wrath: 

“ 'I want you to understand, Gineral Bradley, 
that my Dory is jist as good as you or your son 
any day you ever seen. And you needn’t to come 
heah with none of your high and mighty airs, fur 
I am not a bit sheered of you, neither is Dory.’ 

“ 'Ah, mother, come away, please co?ne away, ’ 
and Dora, with a face as white as the petals of 
an ascension-lily, caught the angry woman’s arm 
and endeavored to pull her out of the hall. 

‘"Now, Dory, you jist let me alone and shet 
up,’ said the woman, freeing herself from the 
girl’s grasp. ‘You’re jist as good as Larry Brad- 
ley, or any of his kin folks, and if he loves you 
and you love him, you can git married whenever 
you please, and I’d like to know how Gineral 
Bradley is goin’ to help hisself. ’ 

"‘I will find a way to help myself and save my 
son from your clutches,’ I answered, boiling over 
with rage. 

“'Now, ole lady, don’t you go to having no 
quarrel with the gineral,’ Johnston said in a con- 
ciliatory tone to his angry wife. 

“'Well, let him go about his business, then, and 


THE fireman’s HEART 


59 




not come heah jumpin’ onto us for nothin’. We 
didn’t tell Mr. Larry to fall in love with our 
Dory. ’ 

‘‘ ‘Oh, mother, for heaven^ s sake hush, and 
come away!’ and the poor young girl, with her 
face convulsed with grief and mortification, again 
tried to lead her mother away from the door. 

‘“Miss Dora,’ I said, my heart at last moved 
with pity at the sight of the young creature’s 
pain, and I involuntarily removed my hat, which 
up to this time had remained on my head, ‘I am 
very sorry for you, because I do not believe that 
you are to blame. My son deserves to be horse- 
whipped for getting you into this trouble. He 
knows just as well as I know that he can never 
marry you. You are a good girl, no doubt, but 
you must marry some one from your .own station 
in life, and not attempt to come between father 
and son. Were you to do so, I would cut Larry 
off without a shilling — yes — more, I would disown 
him and never speak to him again as long as I 
live.’ 

“Her face grew ghastly in its whiteness while 
she listened to my cruel speech. She moved her 
lips in an attempt to speak, - but no sound issued 
from them. She pressed her hand on her heart, 


6o 


THE fireman’s HEART 


and turning quickly away, staggered a few steps 
and fell forward on her face in the hall. 

"Her father and mother sprang towards the 
prostrate form, and the old lady cried out to me: 

"'Now, you proud ole varmint, I hope you’re 
satisfied, you’ve nigh about killed her!’ 

"Johnston gathered the limp form of his daugh- 
ter in his strong arms, and carrying her into the 
room, placed her upon a lounge, while her mother 
ran for water with which to revive the fainting 
girl. 

"I had walked into the room and stood looking 
with alarm into the girl’s inanimate face. 

"For ten minutes I watched the parents’ effort 
to restore their daughter to consciousness, and 
then as no sign of returning animation appeared, 
thoroughly alarmed, I turned away saying: 

"‘I will gallop back to town and send my fam- 
ily physician immediately.’ 

"When I reached Shady lane I met my son and 
the minister of our church going in the direction 
of Fern wood. Galloping past them without 
speaking, and continuing on my way to the phy- 
sician’s office,! sent him with all possible haste to 
the relief of the suffering girl. 

“Two hours later the physician called at my 


THE fireman’s HEART 


6i 


residence and with a pale, grave face, informed me 
that Dora Johnston was dead. 

“The news was an awful shock to me, and 
seemed impossible to be true. 

“ 'Are you certain. Doctor, that you resorted to 
every known means in your attempts to save the 
girl’s life?’ I cried out entreating ly. 

" 'It was too late when I arrived at the planta- 
tion for my services to be of any avail. Life had 
been extinct nearly an hour when I reached the 
poor girl’s side. Her death was the result of 
heart-failure superinduced by a great nervous 
shock,’ the physician answered sadly, and bowing 
himself out, left me alone with the whips which 
were stinging my conscience into unbearable 
agony. 

“All the rest of that never to be forgotten day 
I remained shut up in my room waiting for the 
appearance of my son, yet trembling whenever 
I heard a foot-fall in the hall lest it were he com- 
ing to heap reproaches upon my head for my cru- 
elty to the woman he loved. 

“But the twilight shadows began to wrap my 
room within their gloomy folds and still my lone- 
ly vigils were not broken by the appearance of 
my son. 




62 THE fireman’s HEART 

"Then a light tap fell on my door. Ah! he had 
come at last, and I felt the blood forsaking my 
face and rushing to my' heart as I opened the 
door to admit him. 

"But no, it was not he. It was only a servant, 
who silently handed me a letter and withdrew. 

"I closed the door, and lighting a lamp, tore off 
the letter’s envelope and read: 

‘“I am going away, whither I know not, care 
not. ^The whole earth is to me but a barren waste. 

I shall probably never see your face again. I do 
not forgive you. I would be something more than 
human could I do so. For you are as responsible 
for the death of the pure young being whom I love 
and who in a few short hours more would have 
been proudly called by me by the holy name of 
wife, as if you had sent a bullet crashing through 
her brain. Oh, my father, how could you have 
been so cruel? It was your cursed pride of caste 
that prompted you to do this awful deed. How I 
despise it! How I loath the wealth that has so 
crusted your heart in worldliness! I swear above 
the corpse of my murdered love that I will never 
touch a penny of your wealth. From this day 
forth, I cast my lot with the poor and humble of 
earth’s lowly children, and God grant that my 
heart may be cold in death before it is ever touched 
by the finger of worldly pride that has hardened 
your own. 

"‘Farewell! Farewell forever! 

" ‘Lawrence Bradley.’ . 


THE fireman’s HEART 


63 


"It is useless for me to attempt, lad, to describe 
my suffering that followed this unfortunate oc- 
currence. These months and years of misery 
caused by the sting of an upbraiding conscience 
have left a sad impress upon my heart that will 
never be effaced. 

"I have long mourned my son as dead. But 
when this letter came -informing me of his recent 
death, the news tore my half-healed heart wounds 
open, and set them bleeding afresh. You have 
heard the story which led to the estrangement, 
and you know how cruel I was to my own son.” 

"I can not agree with you that you were cruel 
to your son, sir,” Jack Wilton answered reassur- 
ingly. "In all your actions you were prompted 
alone by a desire for his highest good. The girl’s 
death was only the result of a disease from which 
she was no doubt suffering, and to which she 
would have succumbed sooner or later. Did Chief 
McLain in his letter mention anything concern- 
ing your son’s life after he took up his residence 
in the West?” 

"Very little,” the old gentleman replied wear- 
ily. "He briefly mentioned that my son in life 
was a cabinet-maker — just think of it. Jack, my 
son a workman! — and that during the first year of 


64 


THE fireman’s HEART 


his coming to Fairfield he had married Lucy Gray, 
the only daughter of a widow in humble circum- 
stances. Truly, Lawrence carried out his threat 
and 'cast his lot with the poor and humble of 
earth’s children.’ ” 

“His wife does not survive him, I think you 
said, sir,’’ and into Jack Wilton’s voice an anx 
ious tone, in spite of his will, had crept. 

“No, she died eighteen months after her mar- 
riage with my son, leaving an infant — a little girl 
only a few months old — behind her.” 

“And the child?” Jack Wilton gasped, half ris- 
ing from his chair in alarm. 

“She survives her father, lad,” General Bradley 
answered, not seeming to notice the agitation of 
his companion. “The child is now fourteen years 
of age, and bears her father’s mother’s name — 
Hyacinth. My son in his dying moment be- 
queathed his child to me, as a token, he said, of 
his deep contrition for the suffering he had caused 
me. Ah! better had the lad said as a token of 
his forgiveness for the suffering I had caused to 
fall to his lot to bear.” 

It was well for Mr. Wilton that General Bradley 
sat as he imparted this information with his head 
leaning wearily against his chair cushions, and 


THE fireman’s HEART 


65 


his eyes closed as if he would fain shut out the 
vision of the sorrow which for nearly sixteen 
weary years had spread its dark wings over his 
life. Otherwise he must have been struck by the 
awful pallor which suddenly overspread the face 
of his private secretary, and the evil light which 
his words had kindled in the black eyes which 
were eagerly fastened upon his face as their owner 
asked; 

“And you will accept the bequest?’’ 

"I shall, Jack," the old gentleman replied, 
“although with my age and broken health God 
knows I shrink from the responsibility my son 
has placed upon me.” 

“Why not decline to accept it, then, sir?" the 
private secretary inquired cautiously. 

General Bradley lifted his head, and looking 
his companion squarely in the face, said in an im- 
pressive tone of voice in which self-reproach and 
firm resolution were strangely mingled: 

“Ah! Jack, I have been a hard and unforgiving 
man in life. But thank God! I am not bad 
enough to turn my son’s orphan girl from my 
door, and when she comes, I will do my duty by 
her as best I may." 




CHAPTER VII. 

A few days later Hyacinth Bradley and her 
traveling companion arrived at the palatial home 
of her grandfather. 

The girl had a strong and handsome face with 
regular features, and a proud mouth, and dark 
brown eyes given to glow with fiery enthusiasm. 
Her dark brown hair, showing in certain lights 
a golden shade which betokened her energetic 
temperament and affectionate disposition, was 
tied with a black ribbon and worn school-girl 
fashion in a large plait hanging down her back, 
while at the nape of the neck and on her forehead 
it broke into little natural curls, giving a very 
picturesque appearance to her face. 

The half mourning costume she wore added to 
rather than detracted from the girl’s distinguished 
appearance. 

She came timidly into her grandfather’s pres- 
ence, and he, trying hard to overcome the emo- 
tions which threatened to master him at the sight 
66 


THE fireman’s HEART 


67 


of his lost son’s child, welcomed her affectionately. 

“You have eyes exactly like my poor dear papa’s 
were, and I know that I shall love you dearly,” 
the child said artlessly, as her grandfather drew 
her to a seat beside him on the sofa on the morn- 
ing following her arrival at Forestville. 

“All the long journey here, grandpapa, I had 
a picture of you in my mind as being a very cross 
old gentleman of whom I should be terribly afraid, 
and I am so happy to find that my imaginings 
were wrong.” 

“But supposing, my dear, that they had all 
come true, and you had found me to be the very 
disagreeable personage you had pictured me to be, 
what did you intend to do then?” Gen. Bradley 
answered, amused at the girl’s frankness. 

“Oh, I intended to go right straight back home 
with the chief, and live with our boys and their 
wives, mothers and sisters as long as I live. They 
are never cross and they always want me,” she 
said very earnestly. 

“Our boys? Whom do you mean by our boys. 
Hyacinth?” Gen. Bradley asked in mild surprise. 

“Why, don’t you know who our boys are, grand- 
papa? They are the members of the Fairfield 
fire department, and the best friends papa and I 
ever had.” 


68 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“Your papa belonged to a fire company?” the 
gentleman said interrogatively. 

“Oh, yes, indeed,” she answered quickly, “ever 
since I can remember. Were you not a fireman 
when you were a young man, grandpapa?” 

“No, dear,” he answered briefly. 

“Well, then," she said in a disappointed tone, 
“you don’t know what big hearts firemen have — 
Oh! grandpapa,” with a little catching sob, “I 
am sure that poor papa’s sudden death would 
have killed me if it had not been for the tender 
kindness of our boys.” 

“I am astonished,” Gen. Bradley replied. “I 
had thought firemen, although they are often very 
heroic in a reckless sort of way during fires, a 
rough lot of fellows who possess very little senti- 
ment or tenderness of heart.” 

“Ah, you do not know them, sir,” remarked 
Chief McLain, laying aside the newspaper he had 
been reading and joining at last in the conversa- 
tion. “Some of the noblest deeds of charity I ever 
witnessed came from the hands of firemen. The 
very calling in itself seems to keep men’s hearts 
true and tender.” 

Chief McLain drew out his watch as he spoke, 
and continued: “Well, it is almost time for me 
to begin my homeward journey. Hyacinth.” 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


69 


“Oh, Chief, must you go?” she began, in a deeply 
grieved voice; and leaving her grandfather’s side, 
she threw herself on an ottoman beside the chief’s 
chair and continued in a voice broken by sobs: 
"Then the last ohe of my friends will be gone. 
Oh, how can I stay here?” 

Chief McLain brushed the little rings of hair 
back from the child’s white forehead with the 
same gentle touch that had rested on the brow of 
her dying father, and the warm mist that sprang 
to his eyes for a moment obscured the sweet 
young face from his vision. 

"You will have your grandfather, my child, and 
Miss Christopher, and this beautiful home, and 
you will soon make many friends,” he said, with 
a feeble attempt at consolation. 

"But, Chief, my grandfather and Miss Christo- 
pher can never take the place of my old friends, 
and I do not think I can ever love this beautiful 
home as I loved the little cottage where papa and 
I were so happy,” she said pitifully. "I shall 
always love grandpapa now that I know him, but, 
oh, if he would only let me go back and live with 
you and my friends in Fairfield I should be so 
much happier than I can ever be here. ” 

"But your father wished you to remain here. 


70 


THE fireman’s HEART 


Hyacinth, and be happy and make your grand- 
father happy, and instead of obeying his dying 
request you are distressing your grandfather as 
well as myself by this manifestation of discon- 
tent,” the chief said reprovingly. 

The girl darted a look of inquiry toward Gen. 
Bradley, who sat with his elbow resting on the 
arm of the sofa and his gray head leaning de- 
spondently on his hand; and getting up, she went 
to the old gentleman’s side and wound her soft 
arms around his neck and drew his head to her 
bosom. 

‘‘Forgive me, grandpapa,” she said. ‘‘I prom- 
ised the chief and the boys to be a good girl, -^nd 
I intend to try to be, but, oh, you don’t know 
how homesick I am,” and the tears which she 
had held in abeyance until her heart was ach- 
ing with agony, burst forth and fell like a sud- 
den shower upon her grandfather’s gray head. 

‘‘Well, never mind, my dear,” he said in a con- 
soling voice, as he got up and drew the child to 
his heart, ‘‘you will soon get over this, and be 
happy. You shall have everything you want. I 
shall get you a beautiful little saddle pony and a 
pony carriage, and you will soon become ac- 
quainted with all the nice little girls in town, and 
you have no idea how happy you will be.” 


THE fireman’s HEART 


71 


“But I shall never forget my friends, the fire- 
men,” she declared, as she wiped the tears from 
her face. 

“Of course you will not. No one wishes you to 
do so. They shall always be remembered by us 
both as friends to whom we owe afi everlasting 
debt of gratitude, and by and by I will take you 
to visit them. Now dry your eyes and run and 
tell Miss Christopher to come here and bid the 
chief good-bye.” 

General Bradley and Chief McLain smiled into 
each other’s eyes as the girl quitted the apartment. 

“She has the warmest and truest heart of any 
child I ever knew,” the chief remarked. 

“In this, as well as in her features, Hyacinth' 
resembles her father,” Gen. Bradley answered 
proudly. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


“Take good care of our little girl, Miss Chris- 
topher,” Chief McLain said, as he bade that lady 
good-bye. 

“The happiness of the dear child shall be the 
dearest object in life to me,” Miss Christopher 
answered with great effusiveness. 

There was a false ring in her voice, however, 
that smote painfully on Gen. Bradley’s ear, and 
caused him to pause in the slow walk up and 
down the room in which he had been indulging, 
and look for a moment curiously into the 
woman’s face. 

“It is impossible for me to express the grati- , 
tude I feel for the kindness of yourself and the 
fire department of Fairfield to my exiled son and 
his orphan child,” he said at length, turning to 
Chief McLain as he spoke. 

“Do not mention it, Gen. Bradley,” the gentle- 
man replied with deep feeling. “Your son was 
as a dear brother to us, and we love his child for 
his sake as well as her own, and permit me to 
72 


THE fireman’s heart 


73 


say that while I am happy to see her placed in 
your care in this elegant home, if the time ever 
comes that she needs assistance of any character, 
she knows that there is not a member of her 
father’s fire company who would not willingly, if 
needs be, lay down his life for her. ” 

"Do you hear that, grandpapa?" Hyacinth ex- 
claimed proudly. "That is what all our boys say. 
Is it any wonder that I love them?” 

"You certainly would be very ungrateful if you 
did not love those warm-hearted friends, my 
child,” Gen. Bradley answered, as he looked at the 
girl proudly. 

Chief McLain drew the child to him, and kiss- 
ing her cheek said: 

"Good-bye, little one. God bless and hold you ' 
forever in His keeping.” He released her sud- 
denly, and turning abruptly, hurried away, further 
utterance choked by his emotion. 

Hyacinth covered her face with her hands and 
burst into tears. 

"There, there, my dear, you must not give way 
so,” Gen. Bradley said, as he drew the sobbing 
form of the lonely child to his heart. "It will 
make you ill. Besides, ” he added, smiling and 
putting his fingers under her chin and lifting her 


74 


THE fireman’s HEART 


tear-stained face to his own, “you are making me 
quite jealous by your uncontrollable grief at part- 
ing with the chief." 

“Oh, grandpapa, I love you, but you don’t 
know how much I love our boys, too, and now 
they are all so far away from me!” and down went 
the young face again against her grandfather’s 
shoulder. 

“Are you not ashamed of yourself. Hyacinth?" 
said Miss Christopher sternly, “to so distress 
your grandfather by your silly tears. Come with 
me to your room. I am quite ashamed of your 
childishness. " 

“Be gentle with her. Miss Christopher,” Gen. 
Bradley said with quiet dignity. “The poor little 
thing is very lonely, and we must be patient with 
her. Go with Miss Christopher like a good little 
girl, my dear, and after dinner I will take you 
out driving, and we will see about the pretty pony 
that I intend to buy for you." 

The child raised her head and kissed her grand- 
father with trembling lips, and turning silently 
away, obediently followed Miss Christopher from 
the room. 

“What an affectionate and pretty little thing 
the girl is!" Gen. Bradley said to himself, as he 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


75 


sat down and unfolded the morning paper. “She 
looks exactly as poor Lawrence did when he was 
her age. But dear me! what shall I do with her 
if she continues to give way to homesickness in 
this manner? 

“Good morning, Jack; where have you been so 
long, lad?’’ and Gen. Bradley turned toward his 
private secretary, who had suddenly walked into 
the room. 

“I happened to think after my interview with 
you yesterday morning, sir, that I had neglected 
to see the agent in regard to the repairs upon the 
cottages at Archer that you wished to have made. 
So I ran down there to attend to the matter, and 
have just returned.” 

“You are a good boy. Jack; you never forget 
my wishes.” 

“Lhope I never shall, sir. But Washington in- 
formed me just now that your granddaughter had 
arrived. Permit me to congratulate you on your 
new-found happiness,” and Jack Wilton’s false 
lips uttered the words as feelingly as though his 
heart rejoiced at his friend’s happiness, instead 
of being the seething caldron of malice and hatred 
it was, for the innocent child who had so sud- 
denly made her appearance upon the scene of his 




76 THE fireman’s HEART 

well laid plans, and would, if he could not devise 
some means to prevent it, come between him and 
the fortune he coveted. 

"Thank you, lad,” the old gentleman replied. 
"Yes, the child, accompanied by Chief McLain 
and Miss Christopher, a lady whom Hyacinth’s 
friends engaged to accompany the child home, 
arrived at 10 o’clock yesterday morning. 

"My granddaughter is a pretty little thing, 
Jack, and resembles her father both in features 
and disposition. — How pale you are!” he broke 
off to say, as his eyes noted the pale and haggard 
face before him. "Are you ill?” he asked with 
much concern. 

"Thank you. It is nothing,” Jack Wilton said 
lightly. "I did not sleep well last night and have 
a slight headache in consequence. But you were 
speaking of your granddaughter — Miss Hyacinth, 
sir. ” 

"Yes. It seems that my poor son and his 
motherless child have been the recipients of great 
kindness at the hands of the Fairfield fire depart- 
ment, of which the child’s father was a member 
for many years; and —will you believe it. Jack? — the 
little girl is so deeply attached to her friends, the 
firemen, that she even implored me to permit her to 


THE fireman’s HEART 


77 


return to Arizona to live with them always. As if I 
would for a moment consider such a proposition! 
But I can see that the child, although very warm, 
hearted and affectionate, has her father’s willful 
and impetuous disposition, and may, although I 
trust not, prove hard for an old man to manage 
in the right way.” 

“If you think so, sir, and you will permit me 
to make a suggestion regarding the child,” said 
Jack Wilton cautiously, “why not place her in 
the Episcopal orphanage at Savannah? Of course 
you would contribute liberally to her support, and 
she would receive the very best attention, mor- 
ally, physically and mentally,” and through the 
speaker’s harassed brain floated wild schemes 
of the girl’s abduction, or death, for he had sworn 
to stop at no measures that would remove this 
barrier which had suddenly come between himself 
and Gen. Bradley’s wealth. He had unlimited 
faith in the power of money. “Every human being 
has his or her price,” he mentally argued; “once the 
girl is away from her grandfather’s protection, it 
will be an easy matter to bribe some one to put 
her out of the way.” 

Before Gen. Bradley could reply to this sug- 
gestion, made evidently with the most kindly in- 


78 THE fireman’s heart 

terest on his private secretary’s part, a light 
bounding footstep sounded in the hall beside the 
open door, and the next moment his granddaughter, 
with a pale face and flashing eyes, stood before 
him. 

“Grandpapa,” she burst forth indignantly, “with- 
out any intention of playing the part of an eaves- 
dropper, I heard this gentleman advise you to 
place me in an orphanage, and I warn you to 
make no such plans for me. If you do not want 
me here, or if I am in any one’s way, say so im- 
mediately and I will hasten to the depot before 
the train leaves upon which Chief McLain is go- 
ing, and return with him to my friends in Fair- 
field. For never, never, as long as our dear boys 
live, will I be sent to an orphanage. The idea of 
me being sent to an orphanage!” she continued 
with flashing eyes, “when I have more fathers 
and mothers, brothers and sisters than any other 
girl that was ever born and bred in the West.” 

“Why, my dear, my dear!” exclaimed Gen. 
Bradley, starting up in surprise and possessing 
himself of the indignant child’s hands, “what a 
temper you have, to be sure!” 

“I beg your pardon, grandpapa,” and the sweet 
young voice trembled a little, and the full red 


THE fireman’s HEART 


79 


under lip began to quiver in a grieved fashion. 
“I have never before been told that I had a bad 
temper. But I am in earnest about this. Do you 
intend to put me in an orphanage? Please speak 
quickly, for if this is your decision, I have no 
time to lose. ” 

“Put you in an orphanage? Why,of course not, 
my dear; I never even thought of such a thing.' I 
intend to keep you with me as long as I live. I 
shall even have you educated at home. So now 
you see you had your little tantrum for nothing, 
didn’t you?” and he smiled down fondly into the 
agitated face of the child. 

“Forgive me,” she said, as she put up her lips 
for a kiss. “I am not yet well acquainted with 
you^ grandpapa. No doubt had I known you bet- 
ter the words overheard would not have disturbed 
me in the least.” 

“But I thought you had gone to your room to 
dress for dinner, my dear. How is it that you 
are back in the parlor so soon, and still in your 
morning dress?” he asked smilingly. 

“Well, you see, grandpapa, when I reached my 
room I found that I had lost my hair ribbon” — 
her eyes* began to search the carpet as she spoke 
— “I supposed I might have dropped it here. Ah, 


8o 


THE fireman’s HEART 


there it is,” and she crossed the room and picked 
up a black ribbon tied in a bow, lying near Mr. 
Wilton’s feet, and Gen. Bradley said: 

"Hyacinth, this gentleman is Mr. Wilton, my 
friend and private secretary. My granddaughter, 
Mr. Wilton.” 

Mr. Wilton, who had been standing during the 
colloquy between Gen. Bradley and his grand- 
daughter, behind a large chair, slightly leaning on 
its back while he watched the girl’s beautiful and 
expressive face, with a world of hatred surging 
through his heart, straightened up and stepping 
forward, made a profound bow in answer to the 
introduction. 

Hyacinth returned the salutation with a haughty 
little nod, and after eying the young man’s face 
a second with deep penetration, she turned to her 
grandfather and said sweetly: 

"I hope you will excuse me for having inter- 
rupted you, grandpapa. I will return to my room 
and dress for dinner.” 

"Certainly, my dear. I too am going to my 
room, and will accompany you as far as yours. 
Excuse us. Jack,” and drawing the girl’s arm 
within his own, the two quitted the apartment. 

"Curses on the infernal girl and her idiotic old 


THE Fireman’s heart 


8i 


grandfather!” Jack Wilton exclaimed through his 
clenched teeth as soon as the footsteps of the two 
died away down the hall. He threw himself into 
an arm chair, and leaning his body forward, rested 
his head on his hands with his elbows leaning on 
his knees, and for a few moments gave himself 
up to the bitter and revengeful thoughts which 
were surging through his soul. 


CHAPTER IX. 


For fully ten minutes Jack Wilton sat silently 
thus, giving his whole soul up to evil thoughts. 
Then raising his head, he sprang up and began 
taking long, restless strides up and down the hand- 
some apartment, and muttered under his breath: 

“Did the devil himself ever send worse luck than 
this on any man? After planning and scheming 
for years until the old man’s money was almost 
within my grasp, now to have this imp of Satan 
spring up from the devil only knows where to foil 
me! It is enough to make a man blow hi^ brains 
out in sheer desperation! How I should like to 
throttle her! But I will find some way to get rid 
of this girl, and that before many weeks have 
passed over my head, or my name is not Jack 
Wilton. But how shall I go to work to accomplish 
it in a manner so as to not arouse suspicion 
against me? Never mind; where there’s a will 
there’s a way, and I’ll set my wits to work to 
discover that way. I have never failed yet in 
82 


THE fireman’s HEART 


83 


whatever I sought to accomplish, and I will not 
fail in this.” He reached the open door at this 
point in his bitter self-communion, and was sud- 
denly confronted by a tall, angular, much befriz- 
zled, highly powdered, and strongly perfumed 
female. She was arrayed in a costume of pale 
lavender tint, with ' coquettish bows fastened in 
great profusion here and there upon it. She 
started back in mild surprise and with a girlish 
giggle when her eyes fell upon the strange gentle- 
man, and she exclaimed with great affectation: 

“Oh, I beg pardon, sir; I am looking for Miss 
Hyacinth, and supposed she might be in the par- 
lor. ” 

‘‘The young lady has just left the room with 
her grandfather,” he replied, the gloomy expres- 
sion which had rested on his face giving place to 
its usual polite expression as he added: “You are 
Miss Christopher, the young lady who came with 
Miss Bradley, I suppose.” 

“I am, sir, ” she replied, bowing and glancing 
coquettishly into his face. 

“My name is Wilton,” he continued. “I have 
long been an inmate of Gen. Bradley’s house. I 
am very happy to make your acquaintance, Miss 
Christopher. ” 


84 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


"It is very charming of you to say so, for I am 
very lonely in this great house, with no companion 
except the spoiled child," she said simperingly. 

"You are much attached to your young charge, 
I presume," he remarked cautiously. 

Miss Christopher tossed her head and replied: 

"Oh, not particularly so. I had no acquaintance 
with her until the day we started south together. 
I was only engaged to act as her companion, be- 
cause the lady who had had the charge of the 
child was ill and could not come." 

Mr. Wilton began to open his eyes as a new 
hope found birth in his false heart, and he further 
questioned the stranger: 

"Miss Hyacinth is a charming child, I suppose?" 

"That is wholly a matter of taste, Mr. Wilton," 
his companion returned, dropping her eyes mod- 
estly and toying with her watch-chain as she 
spoke. "You, perhaps, will think her charming. 
But she has been so flattered and spoiled by those 
horrid firemen that to my taste she is abominable. " 

"Indeed!" he answered, evincing surprise. 

"Yes. But, of course, you will not mention 
what I have said, Mr. Wilton?" 

"Oh, no, indeed! not for worlds," he replied 
earnestly. ^ 


THE fireman’s HEART 


85 


"Well, I must go and be looking after her, or 
she will be complaining of me presently. Spite- 
ful little minx!" and Miss Christopher turned 
toward the door with her mincing gait. 

"Miss Christopher — ahem,” and Jack Wilton 
followed the retreating figure as he spoke. "I 
trust we shall become very good friends." 

"Oh, Mr. Wilton!” she exclaimed in a delighted 
tone, as she turned back and faced him. "It is 
very charming of you to say this. You have no 
idea how hungry my young heart is for compan- 
ionship, and your offer of friendship comes to me 
like a ripple of music sounding o’er the billowy 
deep. " 

Mr. Wilton bit his under lip hard to repress 
his risibility and answered: 

"To make the acquaintance of such a beautiful 
and accomplished young lady as yourself, my dear 
Miss Christopher, and have her for my daily com- 
panion, is indeed a godsend to me. I knew as 
soon as my eyes looked into your own soulful 
ones that we were kindred spirits long separated 
by the capricious hand of fate, who, having re- 
lented of her unkindness, has brought us together 
at last. Let us not be conventional or stand upon 
ceremony as strangers, but meet and mingle with 


86 


THE fireman’s HEART 


that freedom of thought and speech which will 
show us to be on a higher plane than those who 
are bound down by mere conventionalities.” 

"Your kind proposition finds an echo in my 
own soul, Mr. Wilton,” she said, pressing a bony 
hand in the region of her heart as she spoke, 
“and to my eyes illuminates the dim aisles of the 
future with a brilliant radiance. Only an hour 
ago I was wondering how I should ever be able 
to endure life in this lonely house, deprived of 
the presence of all young people of my own age, 
when suddenly your kindness has lifted the dark 
clouds from my mental horizon, and set my young 
heart throbbing in joyful anticipation of the hours 
we are to spend together. Au revoir, ” and she 
held out a bony, yellow hand for his clasp. 

Mr. Wilton grasped her hand, and bowing low 
over it, murmured: 

“Yes, until we meet again, fair lady, which 
must be soon.” 

With smiles of delight upon her insipid face 
and with a coquettish step, she left him, and Mr. 
Wilton softly closed the parlor door, and throwing 
himself into an arm-chair, gave vent to the mirth 
which the sentimental scene just enacted had 
created in his breast, and which jcould no longer 
be suppressed. 


THE fireman’s HEART 


87 


"What a soft, insipid, sentimental old maid, 
and how very badly made!” he exclaimed at length. 
"Young lady, indeed! She will never see her 
fortieth birthday again, and, oh my! how homely! 
— kindred spirits, capricious hand of fate and all 
that sort of rot” — and Mr. Wilton laughed again 
immoderately. "It does seem almost impossible 
that any woman could be such a fool — But Jack 
Wilton, old boy, cheer up! You’re a lucky dog 
after all. Only this morning you were cursing 
fate for having brought old Bradley’s grandchild 
upon the scene of your well laid plans, when al- 
most immediately the kind old dame places a tool 
in your hands which, if used by you judiciously, 
will remove this barrier which has come between 
yourself and wealth. Oh yes. Miss Christopher! 
we shall become very good friends, indeed!” and 
a mocking smile curled his mustached lip. "Well, 
I’ll go and take a drink on this streak of good 
luck, and prepare myself for conquest, ” and snatch- 
ing up his hat. Jack Wilton left the house, gaily 
whistling under his breath the refrain from some 
popular love song as he went. 


CHAPTER X. 


The first six months of Hyacinth’s stay in her 
new home passed quickly away, and the tendrils 
of her grandfather’s heart were wound deeply 
around the affectionate child. 

Her sympathy for firemen, and the deep inter- 
est she took in everything pertaining to this 
fraternity, were inborn. The cap, belt and other 
fireman’s trappings which had belonged to her 
father were piously treasured by the child despite 
the covert sneers of Miss Christopher. . 

“Now that you occupy your rightful place in 
societ}^’’ Miss Christopher, in an unguarded mo- 
ment, remarked to the girl, “I should think that 
you would be ashamed to have it known to your 
grandfather’s aristocratic friends that your father 
for fourteen years belonged to a fire company. 
I should try to keep this fact a secret if I were 
you, instead of parading it as something to be 
proud of.’’ 

“That suggestion is in perfect keeping with your 
88 


THE fireman’s HEART 


89 


small soul, Miss Christopher,” the girl replied 
with flashing eyes, and Miss Christopher, sup- 
pressing her anger, turned silently away from the 
quarrel that was imminent between herself and the 
girl, for Mr. Wilton had warned her above all 
things to avoid a quarrel with Gen. Bradley’s 
granddaughter. 

"For in this event, Sophia, Gen. Bradley would 
in all probability dismiss you, and secure another 
governess for the girl, and this arrangement would 
seriously interfere with our plans,” he said. 

Jack Wilton had made good use of the time 
since becoming acquainted with this woman, who, 
he flattered himself, was now a mere puppet in his 
hands to do his bidding, little dreaming that there 
was an element in her character which he was yet 
to discover. 

Soon after Hyacinth’s arrival in her new home 
she succeeded in interesting Gen. Bradley to 
such an extent in the work of firemen that to please 
the child he took her to call on Chief Campbell of 
the Forestville fire department, who in turn be- 
came so interested in the unique and enthusiastic 
child, that he took his distinguished visitors to 
visit every engine house in the city, and in a 


go 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


short time Hyacinth had become acquainted with 
the history of each company belonging to the 
department. She silently made a note of the 
needs of each, and the surprise and gratitude of 
the chief and members can better be imagined 
than described when a few days later the former 
received a kindly expressed note from Gen. Brad- 
ley, advising him to supply all deficiencies of the 
department at once and draw on the writer for the 
amount to cover the expenditure necessary. 

“Truly,” remarked Chief Campbell, after he had 
somewhat recovered from the surprise the note 
occasioned him, ‘“a little child shall lead them.’ 
For Gen. Bradley was never before known to take 
any particular interest in anything so plebeian as 
a fire department.” . 

“What a pity that you had not been born a 
boy. Hyacinth!” Gen. Bradley laughingly re- 
marked to his granddaughter one day. “Then you 
could have enrolled your name as a member of the 
fire department, and in time you would, no doubt, 
have become its chief.” 

“I should not have wished to become its chief, 
grandpapa,” she said, with a serious look in her 
soft brown eyes. “Poor papa, although he was 
a member of the Fairfield department for more 




HE FIREMAN^S HEART 9I 

than fourteen years, never held any kind of an 
office in it, and was just a plain, consc ientious, 
hard-working member, and this is all I should 
have wanted to be. ” 

"I wonder how it happened, when the boys were 
all so deeply attached to your father, that he was 
never elected to any office which was in their power 
to give,” Gen. Bradley said thoughtfully, more to 
himself than to the child. 

“I have heard Chief McLain say that this was 
papa’s own fault, as the boys for years were very 
anxious to have him hold the office of chief or 
even foreman of his company, but he positively 
declined to accept either office,” Hyacinth an- 
swered quickly, eager to take up the defense when 
she thought the least shadow of blame was about 
to be attached to her sworn friends, the Fairfield 
firemen. 

“And God grant that my heart may be cold in 
death before it is ever touched by the finger of 
worldly pride that has hardened your own,” and 
the words which were contained in the last letter 
his dead son had ever written him seemed to be 
borne to Gen. Bradley’s ears b}^ the gentle South- 
ern zephyrs, that rustled the frost-touched leaves 
beside the open window, and tossed the curls 


92 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


back from his grandchild’s brow, as she sat at his 
feet looking up into his face with her clear, inno- 
cent eyes. 

“And the poor lad chose the most humble 
walks in everything he attempted thereafter, that 
God might answer his prayer,” and Gen. Bradley, 
as he thus mused, suffered his thoughts to turn 
back in retrospection of the sad day when his own 
worldly pride had wrecked his son’s earthly hap- 
piness, and driven him an exile from his father’s 
door. 

“You do not think that our boys were to blame, 
do you, grandpapa?” and the girl looked wistfully 
up into the grand old face over which she noted 
a look of sadness had suddenly crept. 

“To blame for what, my dear?" he asked sud- 
denly, coming back to the present and speaking 
as one aroused from a dream. 

“Fornothaving appointed papato hold an office.” 

“Oh, no, my child; I was not even thinking 
about it,” he said gently. 

“Were you thinking about the time when papa 
was a boy?” she asked, seeming intuitively to de- 
fine her grandfather’s thoughts, “and won’t you tell 
me something about it? Papa never spoke to me 
about his childhood days. Why, I never even 


THE fireman’s HEART 


93 


knew that I had a grandfather living until about 
a year ago. It seems so strange to me, and still,” 
she added thoughtfully, “it does not seem possi- 
ble that you were ever unkind to any one, much 
less to your only child." 

“There are many ways of being unkind. Hya- 
cinth, and some of those ways you are too young 
to have even dreamed of,” he replied evasively. 
“But by and by, if we both live until you have 
grown a few years older, I have a very sad story 
indeed to relate to you, and then you will under- 
stand that if in my zeal to secure your father’s 
welfare and happiness I made a mistake which 
led to an estrangement between us, and to years 
of sorrow for him, I, perhaps, have been the 
greater sufferer of the two.” 

A tap fell on the door, and Miss Christopher 
appeared. 

“It is time for Miss Hyacinth to be at her 
lessons,” she announced. 

The girl sighed, but rose obediently, and Gen. 
Bradley said: 

“Don’t keep the child in the schoolroom too 
long to-day. Miss Christopher. She is not look- 
ing very well, and I think we shall soon have to 
abandon the schoolroom altogether until next 
fall.” 


CHAPTER XL 


A few hours later Gen. Bradley, having returned 
from a long drive, entered the deserted parlor, 
and after looking about for a moment, said in a 
disappointed tone as he picked up the-'afternoon 
paper, and sitting down, began to glance over its 
damp columns: 

“I thought I should find Hyacinth here. It 
is truly astonishing the hold that child has taken 
upon my heart. I can scarcely bear to have 
her out of my sight, and I have not been so happy 
since Lawrence was a boy. But, by the way,” 
he continued, as another thought suddenly oc- 
curred to him. ‘T must not forget to destroy the 
will I made in Jack Wilton’s favor, when I thought 
there was no one living with whom I could claim 
the kinship of blood. Thank God, my wealth will 
not have to pass wholly into a stranger’s hands, 
for I have an heir living who, I am convinced 
will use it wisely. I was a little surprised, how- 
ever, to see Jack take this new dispensation of 
94 


THE fireman’s HEART 


95 


things so philosophically when we talked the mat- 
ter over yesterday. He is a generous and high- 
minded lad. I shall leave him a few thousand 
dollars in my new will, and he will be sure to 
make his way in the world.” 

His reverie was interrupted by a ripple of girl- 
ish laughter from the hall outside, and Hyacinth, 
dressed in fairy-like garments, and with a broad 
sun-hat on her head, entered the room. She was 
closely followed by Washington, a colored boy 
who was one of the house servants, and Miss Hya- 
cinth’s devoted slave on all occasions. He bore 
a huge basket on his arm, filled to overflowing 
with roses, green leaves and bright carnations, 
the subtle perfume of which soon pervaded every 
inch of the lofty apartment. 

The girl untied her hat and threw it on a chair. 

"Put the basket down here, Washington, and 
be sure that you don’t crush the flowers,” she 
said. 

“Golly, Miss Hyacin’, I wouldn’t cuss dese 
booties foh nothin’,” the boy answered, depositing 
the basket on the floor and disclosing his even, 
white ivories in a broad grin. 

“Washington, don’t say ‘cuss dese booties,’ but 
say ‘crush these beauties,’” Hyacinth said reprov- 
ingly. 


96 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“Yas, Miss Hyacin’, I’ll say hit right dis time, 
shore. ‘Cuss dese booties;’ am dat right, Missie?” 

"Can’t you say ‘crush,’ Washington?’’ said the 
girl, trying not to laugh as she continued the 
lesson. 

"Yas, Miss Hyacin’, 'cuss\' am dat right?" 

"Oh, Washington,’’ she said, bursting into a 
merry peal of laughter, "I never shall be able to 
teach you to, speak correctly. You are .such a 
simpleton.” 

"I know I is, Missie. But golly Moses! dis 
nigger can’t beat Miss Sophy at dat — ’’ 

"Hush, Washington, you must not speak dis- 
respectfully of my governess,” the girl reproved, 
trying her best to repress her dimples into a look 
of displeasure. 

"Yas, Miss Hyacin’. But golly Moses; dat ole 
Miss Sophy do beat my time, shore’s you’re bawn 
she do, honey.” 

"Washington, do you want me to throw this 
book at your head?” 

"Yas, Miss Hyacin’, foh hit wouldn’t hurt hit if 
you did. Dis nigger’s head shore am hard, Missie. ” 

"Now, Washington, clear out, and don’t stand 
here wasting your time,” Hyacinth commanded, 
with a stamp of her tiny foot, and feeling that 
she was getting the worst of the argument. 


THE fireman’s HEART 


97 


"Yas, Missie, I’s done fool away a heap o’ 
time gaderin’ dese posies. Don’t know what de 
massa gwine to say to dis nigger foh not habin’ 
ebery ting done what he tole me to do when he 
went oft dis mawnin’.” 

“Well, hurry up, then — and, Washington” — as 
the boy reached the door, “if you hear any good 
news from our fire boys, run with all your might 
and tell me about it. Do you hear?” 

“Yas, Miss Hyacin’, I shore will, foh I’s 
’spectin’ to heah good noose ebery minit now," and 
Washington disappeared down the hall. 

The girl took a white apron which had been 
hanging on her arm and gaily hummed a tune as 
she tied it around her waist, and walked to the 
bay window to raise one of the shades. Then for 
the first time since entering the room her eyes 
fell on her grandfather who, seated on the sofa, 
had been an amused spectator of the scene be- 
tween herself and Washington. 

“Why, grandpapa,” she said, with a little start 
of surprise, “I didn’t know that you were here. 
When did you return from your drive?” 

“Nearly an hour ago. But where were you? I 
could not find you anywhere.” 

“I have been out in the greenhouse gathering 


98 


THE fireman’s HEART 


flowers; and just see, grandpapa, what beauties 
they are, ” indicating the basket with her hand as 
she spoke. 

“Indeed they are beautiful,” Gen. Bradley an- 
swered, looking in the direction of the basket over 
his gold-rimmed spectacles as he spoke. “But 
what are you going to do with so many flowers? 
Are you and your little mates going to give a 
party?” 

“No, grandpapa,” she said, seating herself beside 
him and leaning her elbow on his knee. “I am 
going to make them into garlands and bouquets for 
Hose Company No. 2, For the boys are so well 
trained that I am almost sure they carried off the 
prize at the State Tournament.” 

Gen. Bradley laughed indulgently, and then 
said seriously: 

“But supposing that neither of our Forestville 
companies won the prize, what will you do with 
the flowers then, my dear?” 

“Oh, I shall present them to the poor fellows 
anyway, because I know that they did their best, 
and tried hard to be an honor to us,” she said art- 
lessly. 

“Washington says that he thinks the companies 
will come home on the six o’clock train this even- 


THE fireman’s HEART 


99 


ing, ” she continued; "so I’ll get the flowers all 
ready and we will go and meet them. You will 
make the boys a neat little speech, and I will pre- 
sent them with the bouquets and hang the wreaths 
on their hose wagons, just to show the poor fel- 
lows that we appreciate the pains they have taken 
to become skillful firemen. You will go with me, 
will you not, grandpapa, darling?" and taking 
his right hand caressingly between both her own, 
she looked pleadingly into his eyes. 

"I will go if I can. But if anything should hap- 
pen to prevent me, I will get Mr. Wilton to go 
with you,” he said kindly. 

Hyacinth straightened up and knit her pretty 
brows together in a frown. 

"I will not go with Mr. Wilton," she said de- 
cidedly. 

"You will not go with Mr. Wilton? Why not, 
my love?” and Gen. Bradley regarded the girl in 
mild surprise as he put the questions. 

"Because I hate him, grandpapa, " she answered 
almost vehemently. 

"Tut, tut, hate is a very ugly word for a little 
girl to use,” Gen. Bradley said reprovingly. 

"I know it is, grandpapa,” she said, "and I am 
very sorry to shock your ears by using it. But it 


100 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


is the only word in my vocabulary that expresses 
my feelings toward Mr. Wilton.” 

“I am sure Mr. Wilton always seems very kindly 
disposed toward you, Hyacinth,” the old gentle" 
man said rebukingly. 

"Well, I wish that he would never,^ nevei' speak 
to me, grandpapa, because when he does” — with 
a little shudder—”! feel just as I do when I see 
a rattlesnake. ” 

“Why! Miss Christopher seems to be exceedingly 
fond of Mr. Wilton,” Gen. Bradley said half teas- 
ingly. 

“Oh, yes, those two are always making love. 
It is very disgusting. When I am alone with 
Miss Christopher, she is very cross to me, and 
calls me names. But when you or Mr. Wilton 
are about — oh, butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth,” 
and the little grimace the girl made was laugh- 
able. 

Gen. Bradley laughed, and then said: 

“Well, never mind, dear, you will not have to 
be annoyed much longer by Miss Christopher at 
all events. I told her this morning that we should 
require her services no longer than this week. I 
have thought for some time that she was not a 
fit governess for you. But as she had come here 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


lOI 


with you, I disliked to dismiss her. I told her, 
however, that if she wished to return to Arizona, 

I would be happy to defray the expenses of the 
journey fpr her.” 

“What did she say, grandpapa?” 

“Oh, I hardly remember, my dear. She sim- 
pered as she usually does, and said something 
about the trials incidental to the life of a gov- 
erness. ” 

“I hope I shall never be an old maid, grand- 
papa, if there is any danger of my becoming as 
silly as Miss Christopher,” she said thoughtfully, 
as she turned on her finger the two small rings 
which she hacf worn ever since she came to For- 
estville. 

Gen. Bradley laughed. 

“The fact of being what you call an old maid 
does not necessarily make a woman silly. Some 
of the most noble and intellectual women I ever 
knew were never married, although they lived to 
an advanced age,” he said, and then noticing the 
rings the girl was turning on her plump finger, 
he asked: 

‘‘Who gave you your rings. Hyacinth?” 

She drew them off and handed them to him as 
she answered: 


102 


THE fireman’s HEART 


"Papa gave me this one on my twelfth birth day. 
Isn’t it sweet? And this one Fred gavh me just 
before I left home.” 

"Who is Fred, Hyacinth?” he asked, as he 
turned the^ rings around in his fingers, looking 
at them. 

"Fred Ellsworth is the foreman of the ‘Alerts,’ 
one of dear papa’s best friends, and a noble fel- 
low," she answered. 

He handed the rings back to her. 

"I will give you a beautiful little diamond ring, 
and you can wear it on the same finger with the 
one your papa gave you, but you must put the 
plain one away. It would not be in good taste 
for a little girl to wear too many rings,” he said. 

"Grandpapa, I don’t think I want a diamond 
ring,” she said, as she slipped her father’s gift 
back on her finger and still held the plain ring 
between her thumb and finger. 

"Do not want a diamond ring?” he asked in 
surprise. "Don’t you admire diamonds?” 

"Yes, grandpapa, I admire them very much, 
and it is very kind of you to offer to give me a 
diamond ring. But I wouldn’t put this plain one 
aside for all the diamonds in the world. It is a 
link between my old life and the new that will 


THE fireman’s HEART 


103 


never be broken, and, grandpapa, ” she said, glanc- 
ing into his face half apprehensively for the effect 
her words might have upon him, did you notice the 
inscription in this ring?” reaching it towards 
him. 

"God watch over thee and me when we are 
parted one from another,” he read slowly, and 
there was a suspicious moisture in his eyes as he 
took the child’s hand and slipped the ring back 
on her finger beside the gift of his dead son. 

“Wear it always, dear,” he said feelingly. 
“Surely it will be a talisman that will keep your 
heart pure and protect you from all harm.” 

“Thank you, grandpapa; you are so kind. But 
you have not yet said that you will go with me to 
carry the flowers to the returning firemen,” she 
said, returning to the subject that possessed so 
much interest for her. 

“Certainly I will go with you, child,” he an- 
swered. 

“Then I must get to work and prepare the 
wreaths and bouquets,” she said, and getting up, 
she sat down on an ottoman beside the basket, 
and filling her apron with the fragrant blossoms, 
began to arrange them tastefully, while Gen. 
Bradley returned to his newspaper. 


CHAPTER XII. 


The silence which had fallen between Gen. 
Bradley and his granddaughter was soon broken 
by Washington, who came tip-toeing into the 
room with his mouth spread from ear to ear in a 
broad grin. 

He took care to pause before he came within 
his master’s vision, who sat with his back to the 
door, and then he began a double shuffle of de- 
light, bending forward and patting his legs in 
perfect unison with the time his slippered feet 
were keeping. 

“Oh, what is it, Washington?” Hyacinth said 
in a stage whisper; and scattering the flowers and 
rose leaves about her feet as she jumped up, she 
ran to the boy and continued: 

“What is it tickles you so. Wash? Did the 
cook try to whip you again, or have you hidden 
the housekeeper’s dusting brush, or did you catch 
Mr. Wilton and Miss Sophia making love again? 
Tell me. I won’t tell anyone.” 

104 


THE fireman’s HEART 


105 

“No, Miss Hyacin’ — But golly Moses!” — and the 
patting and shuffling were renewed with redoubled 
vigor — -“I knowed it; dis nigger been a knowin’ 
how it would come out fer dis long time — ” 

“Washington, what are you doing, you 
black rascal? Can’t you behave yourself? I’ll 
teach you a lesson in politeness in a minute. What 
sort of conduct is that, right here in the parlor 
before your young mistress, too?” and Gen. Brad 
ley, who had at last been attracted by the noise 
of Washington’s manifestation of delight, turned 
in his chair and looked sternly at the boy as he 
administered the rebuke. \ 

“Yas, sah, Gineral, ” said Washington, straight- 
ening up and coming forward with a respectful air. 
“But de boys has done got it, sah!” grinning 
again as he imparted the news. 

“What boys? What are you talking about, 
idiot?” and the old gentleman continued to look 
sternly at the culprit over his spectacles as he 
asked the question. 

“Oh, I know, grandpapa, I know!” broke in 
Hyacinth, clapping her hands in delight. “The 
Forestville fire laddies have carried off the prize 
at the State Tournament. Isn’t that it. Wash?” 
eagerly. 


io6 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“It shore am, Miss Hyacin’. Noose hab jest 
’ribed dat the ’Lerts — same company you named 
foh dat Oder company out west dat you love so 
welljMissie — has done cawied off de prize at Jack- 
son, and got de sibber cup, and dey’s cornin’ 
home on de' seben ’clock dispress train dis ebenin’, 
sah. ” 

“Oh, goody, goody!” cried Hyacinth, again 
clapping her hands. “Didn’t I tell you, grand- 
papa, that one of our companies would take the 
prize?” proudly, '“and it was the namesake of my 
‘Alerts’ that won it. Oh, I am so glad! Now -I 
must hurry and get the flowers ready for them. 
Wash, run upstairs and ask the seamstress to 
send me a large spool of white cotton — hurry 
now. ” 

“Yas, Missie, ” and Washington dodged out of 
the room and ran to do her bidding. 

Hyacinth sat down again upon the ottoman and 
gathered up the scattered flowers. 

“Are you not glad, dear grandpapa,” she said, 
as her white fingers flew over her work, “that our 
boys were victorious?” 

“Indeed I am. Hyacinth, as much for your sake 
as their own,” he answered. 

“Heah’s de cotton, Missie,” said Washington, 


THE fireman’s HEART 107 

hurriedly coming into the room and passing the 
tray on which the spool was placed, to Hyacinth; 
and then turning to where Gen. Bradley sat, he 
passed the tray on .to the gentleman, saying with 
a polite bow: 

“An’ heah’s a visitin’ card foh you, Gineral. ” 

Gen. Bradley picked up the tiny bit of white 
pasteboard and read aloud: 

“Fred Ellsworth, Fairfield, Arizona.” 

“My goodness, grandpapa!” cried Hyacinth, 
springing up from where she sat and running to 
his side, “that is our Fred. ” 

“Our Fred, Hyacinth?’ he echoed, looking at 
the girl in surprise. 

“Yes. Don’t you know, grandpapa? The same 
one who gave me the ring!” 

“Show the gentleman in, Washington.” 

“Yas, sah, Gineral.” 

Washington left the room and Hyacinth untied 
her apron and flung it behind the basket and 
smoothed down her disordered hair with hands 
that would tremble slightly in spite of her efforts 
to be calm, as she said a little sadly: 

. “Captain Fred Ellsworth is one of the members 
of the hose company, grandpapa, who, when 
poor papa was dying, bound himself by a sacred 


iq8 the fireman^s heart 

oath to always care for and protect papa’s orphan 
girl.” 

"Poor Lawrence, I wonder if the lad thought 
that I would prove as recreant in my duty toward 
his orphan child as I did toward himself,” Gen. 
Bradley answered in a deeply depressed tone. 

Hyacinth went softly behind his chair and 
smoothed the gray hair from his temples with her 
gentle touch. 

“Oh, don’t say that, grandpapa,” she entreated 
in a voice husky with tears. 

"Cap’n Ellsworth, Gineral, ” announced the 
voice of Washington from the doorway, and Fred 
Ellsworth walked into the room. 

He was a tall young man, of very gentlemanly 
appearance, whose age was somewhere between 
twenty-three and twenty-five years. He had hand- 
some, clear-cut features, and a strong, face withal 
that betokened great strength of character, while 
his dark blue eyes, rich brown hair and sensitive 
mouth evinced an affectionate and refined temper- 
ament. 

"Oh, Fred, I am so glad that you have come!” 
Hyacinth cried out impulsively, as she ran to meet 
the new-comer and took both his hands in her 
own. “How are all the boys and the chief and 
dear Mrs. McLain?” 


THE fireman’s HEART 


109 


"Why! is this young lady our little Hyacinth?" 
he said, ignoring her hurried questions and look- 
ing at the stylishly dressed girl before him in 
surprise. "How you have changed, child!” 

"I may have changed in appearance, dear Fred," 
she answered smilingly "But I still have and 
shall always have the same place in my heart 
for my friends of the Fairfield fire department. 
But come, let me introduce you to grandpapa. " 

"Grandpapa,” she said with much feeling, when 
they stood before the old gentleman, "this is Cap- 
tain Ellsworth, who was one of papa’s dearest 
friends. My grandfather, Gen. Bradley, Captain 
Ellsworth. " 

"I am very happy to make your acquaintance, 
Captain Ellsworth,” the old gentleman said, get- 
ting up and shaking his visitor warmly by the 
hand, "and to have an opportunity to thank you 
for your kindness to my son and his child. ” 

"It was very little that I could do for them, 
Gen Bradley,” the young man said deprecatingly, 
"and I was richly rewarded for all I did in the 
pleasure afforded me by being able to serve them 
in any way. We all loved your son as a dear 
brother, and his death was a grievous blow to our 
company. ” He turned hurriedly away to hide his 
rising emotions, and said: 


no 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“Another member of our company came with 
me, Hyacinth. ” 

“Oh, who was it, Fred?’’ she asked eagerly. 

“Tim O’ Brian,’’ he said smilingly. 

“Why, poor old Tim! where is he?” 

“He is waiting at the gate to see if he may, as 
he puts it, ‘catch a soight of little Hoicinth’s 
swate face.’” 

“I will run out and see him if you will excuse 
me a moment, Fred,” she said sweetly. 

“Certainly,” he replied, and the girl tripped 
out of the room. 

“Be seated. Captain Ellsworth,” the old gentle- 
man said kindly. “How long do you expect to 
remain in our city?” 

“I hope to remain indefinitely, sir,” Captain 
Ellsworth replied as he seated himself, “as I ex- 
pect to enter into business here.” 

“I am pleased to hear you say so. What bus- 
iness are you engaged in, if I may inquire?” Gen. 
Bradley said with interest. 

“In a small way, in the mercantile business, 
sir,” the young man answered modestly. 

The door flew open, and Hyacinth, with her 
pretty pink and white face all aglow with smiles, 
entered the room. 


THE fireman’s HEART III 

She was closely followed by our old friend, 
Timothy O’Brian, who was dressed in a new suit 
of clothes from top to toe, gotten up in true 
Irishman’s style. 

“Grandpapa, this is Timothy O’ Brian, ’’ the girl 
said, leading the way to the old gentleman’s side, 
“and another one of papa’s dear friends. My 
grandfather, Gen. Bradley, Tim.’’ 

Gen. Bradley rose from his chair, and extend- 
ing his hand in hearty welcome, said: 

am happy to welcome you, Mr. O’Brian.’’ 

“The top o’ marnin’ to yez, Gineral Bradley," 
said Tim, bowing low. “Shure and it’s yez humble 
sarvent Timothy O’ Brian phwat’s proud to shake 
the hand of the grandfather of our little gurrel. 
Bliss her swate soul! Thir’s not a mimber of the 
Alert Hose Company of Fairfield but phwat loves 
the choild. ’’ 

“And I love them too, Tim," declared Hyacinth 
stoutly. 

“Bliss the little darlint!” exclaimed Tim, turn- 
ing to Hyacinth. “Drissed all out in the fine 
toggery entoirely, and livin’ wid her handsome 
old grandfither, who himself looks loike a prince, 
and in a foin house, too, that’s fit for a king’s 
palace, and jist hear the swate crathur say that 
she still loves her friends, the firemen!" 


II2 


THE fireman’s HEART 


General Bradley and Captain Ellsworth smiled 
into each other’s eyes as Hyacinth answered 
warmly: “Indeed I do love them and always shall. 
— And — oh, Tim, we have a splendid department 
in Forestville, — what do you think? Hose com- 
pany number two, which I named the ‘Alerts,’ in 
honor of our company in Fairfield, has just carried 
off the prize at the Tournament as being the most 
expert firemen in the State, and just see the beau- 
tiful flowers grandpapa and I are going to present 
to them when they return home this evening! ’’ 
pointing to the great quantity of flowers lying in 
rich profusion on the carpet and inside the basket. 

“Does yez moin’ that now?” said Tim, turning 
his eyes from the flowers proudly toward Captain 
Ellsworth. “Phwat a friend to the foirmen the 
choild is, be jabbers!” 

“Ever their most loyal champion,” laughed Gen. 
Bradley from his seat on the sofa. 

“And why shouldn’t every one be friends to the 
firemen?” the girl said with great earnestness. 
“Who more true and loyal to duty than they? And 
ever ready to lend their aid in time of need, no 
matter whether their services are needed by friend 
or foe, they are always ready to fly to the rescue. 
I have often heard dear papa say, ” she continued. 


THE fireman’s HEART 


II3 

with moist eyes, “that personal safety sinks into 
insignificance in the heart of a fireman when the 
signal calling him to duty is sounded.” 

“And in the discharge of that duty how many 
a poor fellow meets death and goes to his grave 
unhonored and unsung!" Captain Ellsworth said 
impressively. 

“Roight ye or, me bye, "replied Tim with emotion. 
“Think of poor Larry Bradley, and how the bye 
lost his leii in helpin’ to save owld Moneybags’ 
property, and the owld spalpaan. niver as much as 
come to shake the hand of Larry’s orphan gurrel, 
much liss to say 'and hears a pinny to hilp along 
wid the choild’s eddication. 

“But who was it, Tim, that as far as possible 
filled the father’s place to that orphan girl? Ah! 
don’t turn your face modestly away. It was the 
firemen. God bless the firemen throughout the 
whole world for dear papa’s and our own boys’ 
sake,” and a perfectly angelic expression shone 
in the girl’s face as she finished her speech. 

“Nobly said, my child!” exclaimed Gen. Brad- 
ley, taking off his glasses and polishing the mist 
away that had gathered upon them, on his pocket 
handkerchief, while Tim’s earnest: 

“God bliss the swate crathur, ” fell like a bene- 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


II4 

diction on the orphan’s head, and Captain Ells- 
worth, taking both her hands in his, said with 
emotion: 

“Words can never express the gratitude I feel 
to you. Hyacinth, for your noble and beautifully 
expressed sentiments. Would that every fireman 
throughout the length and breadth of our fair 
land knew what a friend and loyal champion they 
possess in you, the sweet child of their dead com- 
rade; what an incentive to duty it would be to 
them! But I must go now, little one. I only 
called to pay my respects to your honored grand- 
parent, and to see if our little Hyacinth in her 
changed circumstances, surrounded by all that 
.wealth can procure, remained the same true, warm- 
hearted child that the hose company received as a 
precious charge at the hands of her dying father. 
Need I assure you that I am more than satisfied?” 

“Oh, Fred, must you go so soon?” and her lip 
began to quiver as thoughts of the early parting 
rushed over her. 

“I am only going to my hotel, Hyacinth,” he 
said reassuringly. “I have removed my business 
to Forestville, and as Tim is still in my employ 
we shall both remain in this city.” 

“Oh, how glad I am to hear this!” the child 


THE fireman’s HEART II5 

exclaimed, clasping the hands he had released in 
delight. “Grandpapa, it will seem like old times 
now that I can see Fred and Tim every day as I 
used to do.” 

“Captain Ellsworth,” Gen. Bradley said cordi- 
ally, “permit me to assure you that my house is 
always open to you, or any member of the fire 
company of which my son was a member.” 

“Thank you, Gen. Bradley; I deeply appreciate 
your kindness, and shall esteem it as a great privi- 
lege to be perriiitted to call on you occasionally 
and see the child that all her life has been dear to 
the members of the Fairfield fire department.” 
He shook hands with the gentleman, and turning 
to Hyacinth, bade her good-bye, little dreaming 
of the awful circumstances under which he would 
see her sweet face the next time he beheld it. 

“Good-boi,. little gurrel. May the Holy Mither 
watch over and protect yez, ” Tim said feelingly, 
as he took her hand. 

“Oh, don’t look so solemn, Tim,” she said, 
laughing at his serious face. “You are not going 
far away, and I shall see you again to-morrow.” 

“Arrah now, an’ it’s the truth entoirly the choild 
is after spaken. But somehow me heart hit heavy 
jist now, like we was go'in’ to lose her again,” 
Tim said as he turned away to leave the room. 


Il6 THE fireman’s HEART 

“Hyacinth,” Gen. Bradley said, picking up his 
hat from the table, “I shall walk down-town with 
our friends, but will return in time to take you to 
meet the victorious fire company. They will not 
be here for over an hour yet. ” 

“Thank you, grandpapa,” she said. “Good-bye, 
Fred; good-bye, Tim. Come and see us again 
soon," and the next moment she was alone. 


CHAPTER XIIL 


Hyacinth picked up and tied on her white apron 
again, and sitting down on the ottoman, gathered 
up the flowers and was soon busily engaged in 
arranging them to suit her taste. 

“Hasn’t this been a red-letter day to me, though?” 
she said to herself. “I^irst I heard the good news 
that the ‘Alerts’ had won the prize, and had hardly 
finished clapping my hands over it when who 
should walk in but Fred and Tim? Isn’t Fred 
handsome? He is what Miss Christopher would 
call ‘a regular Adonis,’” and the girl laughed 
softly. “No wonder that Washington says ‘Miss 
Sophy’ can beat him at being a simpleton, for she 
is awfully silly. I am so glad that grandpapa is 
going to send her away. I despise her as much 
as I despise Mr. Wilton. — Now I wonder who 
that is coming to disturb me when I am in such a 
hurry,” and she paused in her work to listen to 
the sound of approaching footsteps. 

The door flew open and Mr. Wilton entered the 


room. 


117 


ii8 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“Hello! Flora among the roses, eh?” he said, 
as his eye fell on the pretty picture the girl made. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wilton,” she said coldly, 
as she resumed her work. 

“What do you intend to do with so many flow- 
ers? Are they for a wedding or a funeral?” he 
asked mockingly. 

“Neither. Grandpapa and I are going to pre- 
sent them to the Forestville firemen. I suppose 
you have heard that the ‘Alerts’ won the prize at 
Jackson yesterday?” she answered coolly. 

“I don’t interest myself in the exploits of fire- 
men,” he said sneeringly. 

Her lips curled in a sneer, but she deigned no 
reply, and he pursued: 

“If Gen. Bradley permits you to make a spec- 
tacle of yourself by presenting those flowers to 
a lot of tough firemen, I shall consider him in 
his dotage.” 

“I am not surprised at your insulting remarks. 
They are wholly in keeping with the estimation I 
had put on your character,” she returned with 
flashing eyes. 

“Come now, Hyacinth, we must not quarrel,” 
he said in a conciliatory tone. “But honestly, are 
you not ashamed to make this proposed demon- 
stration over the firemen?” 


THE fireman’s HEART 


II9 

"No, I am proud of the privilege," she answered 
hotly. 

"Well, if you were my sister you would do no 
such thing, I assure you, " he answered half angrily. 

"I shouldn’t want to if I were your sister. But 
thank goodness! I am not your sister, nor any 
kin to you; and I am very busy, Mr. Wilton, and 
need neither your advice nor your company, " she 
said in a tone not to be mistajjen. 

"And I can not persuade you to desist from 
carrying out this silly plan?” he asked. 

"You may call it a silly plan if you choose. I 
don’t care what you say, but you can not dissuade 
me from carrying it out." 

"Hyacinth, I am astonished at you. Why, do 
you know that nothing in this world would induce 
me to join a fire company? I should feel forever 
disgraced were I to do so." 

"Thank heaven, firemen are not made of such 
cowards as you are,” she cried angrily, springing 
to her feet. "Now leave the room instantly. You 
are not worthy to even look at the flowers that are 
to belong to our noble boys." 

Mr. Wilton clenched his teeth , in rage and 
started toward the door. 

"You little vixen!” he said over his shoulder, 


120 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“I wish I had the training of you; I’d give you 
something better to do than to run after firemen.” 

‘‘Well, you haven’t the training of me, and 
don’t you forget it, and please to remember also 
that you are never to speak to me again.” 

A loud bang from the door as it closed upon Mr. 
Wilton’s retreating figure was her only answer, 
and Hyacinth returned to her work. 

‘‘The very idea of such as he making disparag- 
ing remarks about our noble firemen! I intend 
to tell grandpapa,” she said, as she gathered into 
her apron the scattered flowers and hung the bas- 
ket on her arm. 

‘‘I will take the beauties to my own room while 
I am arranging them, for fear that insulting fellow 
will return,” and laden with the flowers the girl 
left the room. 

Scarcely had Hyacinth’s light footstep fallen on 
the upper hall when the drawing-room door again 
unclosed and Jack Wilton and Sophia Christopher 
entered. 

‘‘I imagine I detect the perfume of roses, ” Miss 
Christopher remarked, elevating her pug nose and 
sniffing the air as she came in. 

‘‘Yes, that little vixen Hyacinth has been here 


THE fireman’s HEART 


I2I 


with a basket full of flowers, and what do you 
suppose she was doing with them, Sophia?” Mr. 
Wilton replied contemptuously. 

‘‘I have no idea, dear Jack,” she said lovingly. 

“She was weaving them into garlands to present 
to the returning firemen this evening. Is it not 
too disgusting?” 

“Indeed it is, dear Jack. Isn’t she a fool about 
those horrid firemen? What woflld you do, dear, 
if your little Sophia were to act so?” she asked, 
smiling sentimentally into his face. 

“How I despise that girl!” he said savagely, 
unheeding her soft question. “And I had a quarrel 
with her this afternoon which I suspect will get 
me into no end of trouble with old Bradley.” 

“Oh, dear Jack, how shall we manage to get 
rid of her before she makes us more trouble?” 
she entreated. 

“I have matured a plan in my mind which, if 
acted upon at once, before the will is destroyed, 
will secure us the fortune,” he said. 

“Hush! what noise is that?” she asked in a 
nervous tone. 

He listened a moment and then said contemptu- 
ously: 

“Oh, it is the cheering of those infernal firemen. 


122 


THE fireman’s HEART 


They have just arrived, and I suppose that little 
fool, Hyacinth, is presenting them with the 
flowers. ” 

“The vulgar creature!” exclaimed Miss Christo- 
pher. 

“But you will help me to carry out my plan, 
Sophia dear?” he said anxiously. 

“Certainly, dear Jack; I will do anything for 
you. But we must be married first, ” she said de- 
cisively. 

His countenance fell. 

“But Sophia, we have no time to lose, "he said 
argumentatively. “Just as soon as that hajteful 
brat gets over the excitement occasioned her by 
the return of her heroes, she will tell her grand- 
father about the quarrel she had with me, and to- 
morrow he will destroy the will. Don’t you see? 
So what we do must be done to-night, or it will 
be too late — and we are ruined. ” 

“Then let us be married this very hour!” she 
said eagerly. 

“I should like to know how you propose to 
bring this about so suddenly?” he answered in an 
irritated voice. 

“Why, dear Jack,” she replied innocently, “you 
are of age, and I shall be able to pass for twenty- 


THE fireman’s HEART 


123 


one if I look very demure. So we will just simply 
walk down-town as if we were going out for a 
stroll, get the license, “step into a justice office 
and be made one. It is all easy enough to accom- 
plish. ” 

“But, Sophia,’’ he said earnestly, “I despise 
that kind of wedding. It is so horribly vulgar. 
Just have patience, and when the fortune is se- 
cured we will have a grand wedding and go on a 
long wedding journey, and the costly wedding 
present that I shall give you will make other 
brides turn green with envy.’’ 

“Dear Jack,’’ she said, unmoved by his coaxing 
speech, “I am young and innocent, but I have 
heard it said that all men are very fickle.’’ 

“Sophia,’’ he exclaimed in a hurt tone, “do 
you doubt my honor?’’ 

“Yes — ah, no, I mean. But dearest, I never 
cared for display, and always wanted to be mar- 
ried in the manner I propose. It is so romantic, 
you know.” 

He made an involuntary gesture of disgust as 
he replied: 

“Well then, we will be married to-morrow.” 

“And also postpone putting your plan into ex- 
ecution?” she said interrogatively. 


124 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“No, we must not postpone that. It must be 
carried out to-night,” he said decisively. 

“I can not assist you, dear Jack, unless we are 
man and wife,” she persisted. 

“Great heaven, Sophia,how persistent you are!” 
and the look of baffled rage which shone in his 
eyes must have been a curious sight to the bride- 
elect. “If you are determined not to be advised 
by me and postpone our marriage until the for- 
tune is secured beyond the possibility of doubt, 
we will be married at once.” 

“Oh, dear Jack, how happy you have made me!” 
she said gushingly, as she pressed her hand in the 
region of her heart. “My young heart is all in 
a flutter, and I almost feel as if I were going to 
swoon. ” 

He withdrew his hand abruptly, which she had 
been caressing between both her own as she spoke, 
and she continued exultantly: 

“Now I will run and don my loveliest dress and 
most girlish hat, and soon, oh, very soon, we will 
be ‘two souls with but a single thought, two hearts 
that beat as one.”' 


CHAPTER XIV. 


“I told that nigger, Washington, to sweep this 
parlor over an hour ago, and he hasn’t touched it. 
Lord, that nigger will be the death of me yet!” 
and Martha, the fat, podgy little housekeeper at 
Gen. Bradley’s house, opened the parlor door and 
called down the hall: 

“Washington! you. Wash! what are you doing, 
you black rascal?” 

The boy came down the hall in answer to the 
summons, with a hop, skip and jump, and into 
the parlor with the broom on his shoulder gun 
fashion. 

“Washington, didn’t I tell you directly after 
luncheon to sweep this parlor?” Martha said 
sternly as he came in. 

“You sho’ did. Miss Marfa,” Washington an 
swered, showing all his white teeth in a grin. 

“Why didn’t you niind me, then, you lazy ape?” 

“Well, you see. Miss Marfa,” said Washington, 
taking the broom from his shoulder and leaning 
on it with both hands as it rested on the floor, 
“you see, I’ll ’splain matters to you. You see, Miss 
.125 



THE fireman’s HEART 


I 26 

Hyacin’ was in heah fixin’ de flowars foh to cawey 
to de firemen what caweyed off de prize at de toh- 
ment. Now s’posin’, Miss Marfa — jist s’posin’ I’d 
a come in de parlor den and commence to raise a 
dus’ under dat sweet chile’s nose? Great goodness 
alibe! Wouldn’t de gineral made it hot foh dis 
nigger?” 

“Well, hush, and go on with your work; it will 
be dark directly," Martha answered, as she began 
to put things to rights. 

"Yas, Miss Marfa," and Washington made two 
strokes with the broom, and resuming his old po- 
sition, continued: 

"But great goodness alibe! ain’t Miss Hyacin’ 
all right doe? An’ de gineral he’s no monh ’en a 
baby when she begins to pesticate him that she 
wants dis an ’she mus’ hab dat." 

"Washington, didn’t I tell you to hush, and go 
on with your work?” reiterated Martha sternly. 

"Yas, Miss Marfa," taking a few hurried strokes 
with the broom, and then pausing again: "But 
great goodness alibe. Miss Marfa! we do hab times 
in dis house foh a fac’ since Miss Hyacin’s done 
come. And dat ole Miss Sophy, lawd, people! 
don’t dat ole ’oman want to marry bad, doe? 
I seed her rollin’ up de whites ob her eyes at 


THE FIREMAI^’S HEART 


127 


Mr. Wilton, and smilin’, den droppin’ dem to de 
floah, and makin’ b’lebe shame. Same she’s a young 
gal, and it mos’ tickle Miss Hyacin’ to del.” 

"Washington, ^0 on with your work, I tell you, 
and shut up.” 

"Yas, Miss Marfa. But, Miss Marfa, great good- 
ness alibe! do you s’pose Mr. Wilton is gwine to 
turn fool and marry dat ole ’oman?” 

"Washington, do you want me to knock you 
down?” 

"Yas, Miss Marfa. But let me tell you some- 
thin’. If Mr. Wilton doan’t min’ out dat ole ’oman’ll 
git him yit, min’ now I’s tellin’ you. Mr. Wilton 
is jist as good as gone now. He might as well 
be sayin’ his prawers, for Miss Sophy’s done fasten 
her eye on him. Hush! what’s dat? Lawd,man! 
Miss Hyacin’ s a callin’ me. Let me git out ob 
heah while times is good,” and Washington 
dodged the blow Martha aimed at his head, and 
disappeared through the open window. 

Martha picked up the broom he had dropped, 
and commencing to sweep,, said to herself: "I’ll 
declare, that nigger is enough to aggravate a saint. 
But he is right about the old maid and Mr. Wil- 
ton. I do believe in my heart that Mr. Wilton 
is going to marry her, and I never was so sur- 


128 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


prised in my life. He had always been so fastid- 
ious, would hardly notice any of the girls, no mat- 
ter how sweet and pretty they were; now to take 
up with that homely, simpering old thing, I can’t 
understand it at all. There now,” she added, put- 
ting a few finishing touches to the room, ‘T 
guess the parlor is all right for Miss Hyacinth. 
Bless her heart, she is so sweet that it is a pleas- 
ure to wait on her, and I don’t see how we ever 
got along without her. Her presence in the house 
is like sunshine and sweet music,” and Martha 
lowered the window shades, lit the gas, and left 
the room. 

“Now, Sophia, I want you to listen attentively 
to my instruction.” 

“Oh, dear husband, call me little wifey. " 

“Sophia, we have something else to do besides 
indulging in sentimental nonsense.” 

“But it is only an hour since the words were 
spoken that made us one, dear Jack, and I can 
think of nothing but our great happiness. My 
young heart — ” 

“Sophia,have done with your cur — ” he checked 
himself. “Will you listen to what I am going to 
say to you?” 


THE fireman’s HEART 


129 


It was night, and the above conversation oc- 
curred between a man and woman whom our read- 
ers will recognize as Jack Wilton, and the woman 
who had been acting in the capacity of governess 
to Hyacinth Bradley. 

Owing to the woman’s importunities that the 
marriage should not be delayed, and fully realiz- 
ing that, although fool he considered her, she 
would not lift a finger to assist him in carrying 
out his atrocious designs upon Gen Bradley and 
his granddaughter until he had fulfilled his part of 
the contract, and made her his wife. Jack Wilton 
had yielded to the pressure brought to bear upon 
him by circumstances and had married Sophia 
Christopher privately that same evening of this 
conversation between them. 

They were standing in a grape arbor situated 
some distance from the house, and carried on 
their conversation in whispers. The full moon 
was sailing majestically through the clear sky, 
and its beams fell through the softly rustling 
vines and formed dancing shadows over and 
about the guilty pair who stood with heads bent 
low, plotting against the innocent child. 

“I am all attention, dear husband,” she said. 

The man drew a tightly corked bottle from his 
pocket, and continued impressively: 


130 THE fireman’s HEART 

“Sophia, this bottle contains chloroform. To- 
night when the girl is sleeping, you must steal 
softly into her room, taking care to close the door 
tightly that leads into the hall. Then pour part 
of the contents of the bottle upon a fine sponge, 
which you must remember to take with you, and 
apply it to the sleeping girl’s nostrils. Be very 
careful not to waken her for a moment, and then 
all danger of detection is over. ’’ 

“And what then?” she asked in an eager whis- 
per. 

“While you are doing this twill be performing 
the same kind office for the old man. His room 
is always accessible to me, and as my room joins 
his own, it will be an easy matter for me to ap- 
proach his bed-side unperceived by hi-mself. By 
the time he becomes unconscious from the effects 
of the drug the girl will be in the same helpless 
condition. Then I will pour kerosene, a can of 
which I will have ready in my own room, upon 
the floor of his room and that of the girl’s, and 
simply apply a lighted match to it. Then we 
must run downstairs in our night clothes and 
secrete ourselves below, and when the fire alarm 
is sounded, as it will soon be, for those cursed 
firemen are always on the alert for fires, we will 


THE fireman’s HEART 


I3I 

rush out as if just aroused. By this time the 
whole upper story will be a mass of flames, which 
no one will be foolhardy enough to attempt to 
face, and in a few moments the barrier which 
stands between us and wealth will be removed 
forever. ” 

"Oh, dear Jack," she exclaimed in a terrified 
whisper, "dare we do such a thing?” 

"We will dare anything to secure this fortune 
of a million dollars," he said grimly, "and if we 
can carry out our plan to-night the fortune is ours, 
because the will old Bradley made before the com- 
ing of this infernal imp has not yet been de- 
stroyed or another one made, although it is the 
old man’s purpose to do this to-morrow. But 
when to-morrow comes let us hope that both the 
old man and this girl upstart will be where they 
will have no use for money, and I will have my 
revenge upon them both!” 

"But, Jack dear,” she said, as she laid her long, 
bony hand caressingly upon his coat sleeve, "you 
must not forget that the coming of Hyacinth 
Bradley to the home of her grandfather was after 
all ‘a blessing in disguise.’ For had she never 
come, in all probability you would never have 
met the young creature who is now your devoted 
wife. ” 


132 


THE fireman’s HEART 


The man shuddered with disgust, jerked his 
arm from her grasp impatiently, and deigning no 
answer to her remark, said coldly: 

“Do you understand what I wish you to do?” 

“Oh, yes, I understand my part perfectly. But 
what if some of the servants should be aroused by 
the fume of the drug and give the alarm in time 
to save the lives of our victims?” she asked 
uneasily. 

“There is not a shadow of danger from this 
source,” he said, reassuringly. “Not a servant 
sleeps in the main body of the house, and' to- 
night there will be no one in the house except 
we four, and this state of things may not happen 
again for months, for, as you know, this house is 
very seldom rid of the presence of guests. Now, 
Sophia” — earnestly — “do you think that you can 
carry out my instructions?” 

“Oh yes, dear Jack, your little wife can do any- 
thing for love and money,” she said enthusiastic- 
ally. 

“Well, secrete this bottle in your pocket, and 
retire to your room soon after tea, and about 
eleven o’clock all things will be in readiness for 
our work,” he said. “Be sure, now, that you don’t 
fail me.” 


THE fireman’s HEART 


133 


“Have no fears of that, dear husband,” she 
said. “I am now as much interested in securing 
the fortune as you are, and will never close my 
eyes until this is accomplished." 

“Very well,” he said, turning away, “then I 
shall trust you.” 

“But, sweetheart,” she said softly, “are you 
going without having given your little wife one 
fond kiss?” 

He turned back impatiently, and smothering the 
oath which he felt rising to his lips, gave her a 
hurried kiss. 

He did not have to bend his head to do this, 
for the woman was fully as tall as he, and he did 
not even remove his hat, which during the whole 
interview had remained on his head. 

She snapped at his cold caress, and said in a 
disappointed tone: 

“Dear Jack, you are so cold-hearted to-night.” 

“We both have something besides sentimental 
nonsense to think of to-night, Sophia, and I wish 
that you could realize this fact. If my plans work 
as they are bound to do, if you render me your 
assistance wisely, we shall have our whole lives in 
which to bill and coo,” he said, starting toward 
the entrance of the arbor. 


THE fireman’s HEART 


134 

“Oh, how sweet!” she exclaimed, but he was 
gone, and the woman left the arbor with 'its danc- 
ing lights and shadows and crept softly into the 
house. 

As she reached the hall the tea bell sounded, 
and depositing her hat and gloves upon the hall 
hat-stand, she repaired at once to the dining- 
room and greeted Gen. Bradley and his grand- 
daughter with smiles and honeyed words, while the 
demon of murder lurked in her brain and spread 
its dark, sinful shadow over her false heart. 


, - L- /.''vcx vf 




CHAPTER XV. 


It was a merry crowd that gathered at the hand- 
some and capacious engine house of Hose Com- 
pany No. 2, on the evening of the Forestville 
fire department’s return from the state firemen’s 
convention, where the “Alerts” had been awarded 
the championship of the state over the numerous 
companies entering the contest. 

No jollier lot of brave fellows ever sang their 
merry songs or cracked innocent jokes, while keep- 
ing a weather eye out for the chance signal that 
at any moment might possibly be sounded, calling 
them forth to a fierce battle with the fiery fiend 
that might, as before had happened, claim some 
of their number as its victims; — than those warm- 
hearted “Alerts,” now rejoicing over the victory 
they had won, and the laurels with which they had 
been crowned. ' 

The sleek-coated and sagacious fire horses stood 
contentedly nibbling hay in their stalls adjoining, 
and Barney, the well-trained Dalmatian hound, 
belonging to the company, who considered himself 
135 


136 


THE fireman’s HEART 


as much of a fire laddie as any of the boys, was 
lying with lazy, half-shut eyes near the hose reel. 

On a table which stood near the wall were placed, 
one in a pitcher and the other in a goblet, two 
beautiful bouquets, while on the hose reel was 
hanging a large wreath, the drooping flowers of 
which sent out a spicy fragrance that mingled with 
the smoke of the cigar the foreman held between 
his lips, and from which he took occasional whiffs. 

To-night the number of fire laddies was in- 
creased by the presence of two visitors who were 
strangers in the city and to the boys whose hos- 
pitality they were enjoying, but who are well 
known to the reader of these pages. 

“How many fire companies have you in the 
city, Captain?” and as the speaker turns his head 
in addressing the question, we recognize the face 
and form of Captain Ellsworth of the Fairfield 
fire department. 

“Three, and fine teams they are, you’d better 
bet,” answered Foreman Miller proudly. 

“Well, I shall have to join one of them, now 
that I shall become a citizen of Forestville. I 
have been a fireman since I was sixteen years 
old, and I should feel like a fish out of water to 
be out of that business,” Captain Ellsworth an- 
swered. 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


137 


"You’ll be sure of a hearty welcome from our 
boys, Cap’n; you may bet on that," returned the 
foreman cordially. 

"Arrah, now, does yez moind that, Cap’n?" 
spoke up the other visitor, whom we recognize 
with a smile as our old friend, Tim O’Brian. "Be 
gorra,an’ it’s the name o’ Timothy O’ Brian phwat’s 
bin enrolled as a thrue blue foirmon twainty years 
come nixt St. Patrick’s day, an’ 'it’s the same name 
phwat must soon be pit down on the roll of the 
Foristville department. For Tim O’Brian’s the 
bye phwat would be after faling maner nor a yal- 
low dog fur to hear the alarum callin’ the byes 
to dooty an’ himsilf not in it, at all, at all." 

"All right, Tim, you bet you’ll be in it, old 
boy," laughed Foreman Miller. 

"Thank ye, Cap’n. It’syersilf phwat’s a thrump 
carrud entoirely, " Tim answered, and then touch- 
ing the wreath with reverential fingers, continued: 
"And this is little Hyocinth’s wrathe? Bless her 
shwate sowl! Faith! and it’s mesilf phwat can 
see the pretty whoite fingers of the lassie as she 
wove the garlants, talkin’ all the toime, as fast as 
her innocent tongue could floi, about your byes 
and the proize they had carried off in the contest 
wid other coompanies. ‘Oh, Tim,’ says she to 


138 THE fireman’s HEART 

me, so proid loik, as soon as she shuck me boi 
the hant, “Oh, Tim,’ she says, ‘it’s the foin foir 
coompanies we have in Forestville! And phwat 
yez think, Tim?’ says she, 'the “Alerts” have 
won the proize at the tournama — ma-mant, ’ says 
she, ‘and jist see the lovely bookayes and wrathe 
grandpapa and mesilf is going to give thim as a 
little token of our appreciation for the success 
they have scored.’ And faith, byes, it’s yersilves 
that should have seen the proid face of the colleen 
phwen she sphake that to me. Thin the swate 
chrathur thought of something that she had heard 
her father say about the bravery of foirmen, and 
faith, byes, she made a little speech about it as 
she stood there forriinst her grandfather, Cap’n 
Fred and niesilf, phwat brot the tears to the old 
ginerel’s ois, and made mesilf fale loik blubberin’ 
loik a babby entoirely, phweai I thought of poor 
Larry Bradley, and how he said, so weak loik, 
as the poor little darlent knelt by his doying bed: 
‘Byes,’ said he, ‘watch over me orphan gurrel. ’” 

“The deep interest that child takes in the welfare 
of the fire department is remarkable,” Foreman 
Miller said meditatively. “I believe that the 
thought of the faith little Hyacinth had in our 
ability to succeed spurred us on, and won the 


THE fireman’s HEART 


139 


prize for us. But I am afraid I acted like a fool 
this evening, boys,” he added ruefully, “when our 
little mascot presented us with the flowers and 
her grandfather welcomed us home with such a 
flattering speech. I tried to stammer out some- 
thing in the way of acknowledgment, but I’ll bet 
I made a botch of it. ” 

“Oh, John, you’re talking through your hat 
now, ” one of the boys answered. “Why, man, you 
made a splendid little speech, and your bow 
would have done credit to a French dancing mas- 
ter. ” 

The boys all joined in the laugh that followed, 
and then warmly seconded their comrade’s asser- 
tion in regard to the graceful manner in which 
their foreman had acknowledged the kind attention 
of General Bradley and his granddaughter. 

Just then the heavy door of the engine house 
swung open and admitted the mayor of the city 
and two councilmen. The boys all sprang to their 
feet, and as the mayor saluted them in true mili- 
tary style, they waved their caps and welcomed 
the visitors with a hearty cheer. 

“Well, boys, you done ’em up, and have brought 
back the laurels, eh?” the mayor said, pleasantly, 
falling into engine house vernacular. 


140 


THE fireman’s HEART 


"You’re right, your honor,” replied the foreman 
proudly. "They weren’t in it with the ‘Alerts’ this 
time.” He turned to the table, and picking up a 
neat package wrapped in white tissue paper, 
which he hastily stripped off, continued as he 
handed the mayor the beautiful champion cup : 
"There, sir, what do you think of this?” 

The mayor took off his hat with one hand while 
he received the cup with the other, and said ear- 
nestly: 

"Permit me to congratulate you, proud victors. 
I wish that you could have seen the proud faces 
of our citizens, and especially that of your little 
mascot, when the news, ‘Forestville wins the cham- 
pionship,’ spread from mouth to mouth; you 
would then have felt doubly rewarded for the pains 
you have taken to perfect yourselves in fire- 
men’s work.” 

"Thank you. Mayor, thank you,” replied the 
foreman. "We knew what our town and our 
generous little mascot expected of us, and with 
quickening pulse and proud hearts our boys flew 
with winged feet over the race course, and wit- 
ness the result — we return home the champion 
fire company of the State.” 

"Well, boys, you did nobly, ” returned the mayor, 


THE fireman’s HEART 


I4I 

returning the prize cup to the foreman as he spoke. 
"I just dropped in to congratulate you and share 
your joy, as well as to invite you all to the city 
hall this evening to partake of a royal banquet 
which the citizens have prepared in your honor. 
Will you come?” 

‘‘Thank you,” and ‘‘Aye, aye, sir,” came in a 
chorus from the company. 

‘‘All right, boys; now go on with your merry- 
making, and report in a body at the hall in an 
hour from now,” replied the mayor cheerfully. 

‘‘Mayor, if you and “your friends present have 
time to wait a few moments, our frog-pond singer, 
Billy Clark, will sing you d song if you would 
like to hear it,” said the foreman respectfully. 

‘‘Certainly, foreman; we shall be delighted, ” re- 
turned the visitors, as they seated themselves and 
prepared to listen to the song. 

‘‘Get your banjo, Billy, and come on. Don’t be 
bashful, man,” encouraged the foreman. “Sing 
‘The Independent Fireman.’” 

A blush showed through the tan of Billy’s 
cheeks, as he possessed himself of his banjo, which 
stood leaning against the wall in a corner of the 
engine house. It quickly receded, however, and 
seating himself on a low bench, he straightened 


142 


THE fireman’s HEART 


his body up and threw back his head, and while 
he accompanied himself on the banjo, sang in a 
sweetly modulated soprano voice, the boys all 
joining in the chorus: 

“Some ten or fifteen years ago, 

When I was twenty-one, 

I joined a fire company 
Because I loved to run. 

I also loved to fight our foes 

Wherever we did meet, , 

Altho’ I own ’tis very wrong 
To riot in the street. 

Oh, the Forestville firemen, 

They are valiant and brave; 

No danger makes them hesitate 
Our property to save. 

Though walls may fall around them 
And flames rise in the air, 

They will venture where no other 
But a fireman would dare.” 

Chorus: 

“Hurrah! hurrah! my jolly lads, 

In fun we do delight, 

But when a fire rages 
We also love to fight. 

“Let other cities boast about 
Their firemen bold and brave. 

But ah, they toil for wages. 

Like hirelings and slaves; 

While the Forestville firemen . 

Their freedom never sold; 


THE fireman’s HEART 


143 


Rejoicing in this freedom, 

They refuse to toil for gold. 

Let the streets of our city 
Beall covered with snow, 

Or let the rain pour down 
Until the gutters overflow; 

What care our jolly firemen? 

Just let the fire-bell sound, 

And soon around the burning house 
In numbers they are found.” 

Chorus. 

“Capital, capital!” cried the mayor and council- 
men enthusiastically when the song was finished, 
and the mayor continue^ admiringly: 

“Why, Billy, what a voice you have, to be sure!" 

“Yes, your honor, for calling cattle," Billy an- 
swered, as he got up and replaced his banjo in the 
corner. 

“Hold on, Billy," cried the foreman, after the 
laugh had subsided, “bring your banjo back. I 
want you to play a jig for Jim Williams. - Our 
visitors will never believe how that fellow can jig 
unless they see him perform. Come on, Jimmy, 
and give the mayor your best double shuffle. " 

“Ah, I can’t dance very well, your honor," said 
Jim modestly, as he addressed the mayor. 

“Nonsense, Jim; come on, man. I’ve seen fire- 
men dance. They can beat the world at it," said 
the mayor encouragingly. 


144 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“All right, your honor, P 11 do my best to please 
you,” Jim answered, as he straightened himself up 
from where he had been half leaning against the 
hose wagon, and took his position in the middle 
of the floor. 

Billy Clark had again taken up his banjo and 
resumed his seat, and now his nimble fingers flew 
over the strings while the lively music of a jig, 
accompanied with the perfect time kept by Jim’s 
feet and the soft patting of the rest of the com- 
pany, filled the engine house. 

“Hurrah for you, Jimmy!” cried the mayor after 
the dance was concluded and the applause from 
the distinguished visitors had subsided. “No 
wonder that the ‘Alerts’ won the prize if they are 
all as supple as you are.” 

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Tim O’ Brian softly from 
his seat on a box near the wall, and the jolly 
Irishman brought his open hand down on his 
knee with a resounding slap. “Faith and be jab- 
bers! but this is the happiest lot of foirmen I’ve 
struck for mony and mony a day. ” 

“Clang! clang! clang! clang!” came a quick sig- 
nal from without, as the loud, clear sound of the 
fire-alarm bell was borne suddenly in upon this 
scene of merry-making. 


CHAPTER XVL 


As the first stroke of the fire-alarm bell rang 
through the engine house, each man sprang to his 
feet with the quickness of a flash of lightning. 
There was a quick clatter of horses’ hoofs on the 
hard floor, and the two beautiful horses belonging 
to hose company No: 3 wheeled themselves 
into position before the hose wagon in the twin- 
kling of an eye. 

“On to the fire!” shouted the foreman in a 
quick, loud voice as he snatched the speaking 
trumpet from its resting place and took the lead. 
A quick rattle of wheels, a hurried tramping of 
feet, and the place which two minutes before had 
been the scene of laughter and jokes, merry song, 
and lively jig, was deserted and still. 

Jim’s banjo, its sweet tones hushed, and its 
brass frets, and pearl and nickel ornamentations 
flashing in the bright gas jet overhead, lay where 
he had hastily deposited it on a bench, unheeded 
and forgotten, while the flowers which had been 
arranged by the loyal hands of little Hyacinth 
145 


146 THE fireman’s HEART 

into tasteful bouquets, from their place on the 
table drooped their crimson, pink, and white petals 
and sent out a sweet and subtle perfume over the 
now silent scene. 

Fred Ellsworth and Tim O’ Brian had followed 
the company into the street, and now paused near 
the door of the engine house and watched with 
admiring eyes the splendidly equipped company 
disappearing down the brilliantly lighted street. 

“Arrah now, Cap’n! Does yez moind that?” ex- 
claimed Tim admiringly, as the sound of the gong 
grew indistinct in the distance. “Howly Moses! 
but that’s a tame for any city to be proud of en- 
toirely. ” 

"Fire, fire, fire!” shouted a lad as he rushed 
passed the two men at this juncture. ‘‘Come on, 
boys,” he shouted to his mates across the street, 
‘‘hurry up; General Bradley’s house is on fire. 
Fire, fire, fire!” and his comrades, with flying 
feet and lusty lungs, joined in the race. 

‘‘Merciful heavens, Tim! did you hear what 
that boy said?” cried Captain Ellsworth, laying 
hold of his companion’s arm with an iron grip. 
‘‘General Bradley’s house is on fire. On to the 
rescue! Our little Hyacinth is in danger.” 

“May the Howly Mither protict the choild till 


THE fireman’s HEART 


147 


Tim O’ Brian reaches her,” cried Tim, crossing 
himself, as he ran to overtake his companion, 
whose flying footsteps were already following in 
the direction led by the excited boys. 

To the eastward a great volume of smoke rolled 
upward through the clear moonlight, and the 
crackling' of an occasional flame which leaped be- 
yond the control of the fire-fighters mingled with 
the shouts and tumult of the crowd. 

When Captain Ellsworth and Tim reached the 
scene of the fire the whole second story of the 
building appeared to be in flames. Two ladders 
had been placed in position against the outer 
wall, and the large windows against which the 
ladders were leaning had been broken in, but not 
a man in the crowd dared to face the peril of en- 
tering the burning building. 

"Gawd A’mighty! O Gawd A’mighty! won’t 
somebody go in de house and tote out de gineral 
and my pore young misses? Dey’s burnin’ up!” 

This frantic appeal, coming from the distracted 
Washington, fell upon the ears of Captain Ells- 
worth as he reached the scene. 

"Which rooms are they in?” he cried, seizing 
the boy by the arm as he spoke. 

"Dey’s in de two front rooms on bof sides de 


148 


THE fireman’s HEART 


hall. Oh, foh Gawd’s sake, massa, go tote e’m 
down. Dey’s burnin’ up, dey’s burnin’ up!” and 
Washington wrung his hands in crazy grief. 

Before the words were out of the boy’s mouth, 
Captain Ellsworth had gained the foot of one of 
the ladders. But strong arms caught him and held 
him back. 

“Don’t add another life to the sacrifice,” they 
frantically cried. “The whole second story is a 
mass of flames, a seething furnace!” 

“Release me, I command you!” cried the man, 
trying to free himself from the detaining hands. 
“Cowards, knaves, release me! I am a fireman, let 
me do my duty.” 

“It is not your duty to sacrifice your life. This 
is madness,” they cried as they tightened their 
grip upon the frantic man. 

“Listen to me, men!” Captain Ellsworth cried 
out in a loud voice. “The child of my dead com- 
rade, whom I took on oath in her dying father’s 
presence to protect with my life, is imprisoned by 
those awful flames, and 1 will save heVi so help 
me God, or I will perish with her. ” 

He freed himself with an effort of superhuman 
strength as he spoke, and jerking his handkerchief 
from his hip pocket, tied it quickly around his 


THE fireman’s HEART 


149 


mouth, and turning up his coat collar and pulling 
his hat low o^er his brows, ran nimbly up the 
ladder. 

Tim, wha in the meantime had been also 
wrestling with the crowd which sought to restrain 
him from entering the building, had now at last 
broken away, and as he began his ascent on the 
second ladder, cried out in a loud, determined 
voice : 

"And here’s another mon, and foirman to boot, 
what’ll not be far behint yez, comrade, and if yez 
perish in de flames it’s Tim O’ Brian that will be 
afther goin’ out on de same train wid yez. ” 

Loud cheers mingled with groans and wild ex- 
clamations burst from the crowd below, as both 
men disappeared through the windows of the burn- 
ing house. 

The swaying crowd continued to wildly gesticu- 
late and exclaim for about the length of two min- 
utes, while the fire laddies, with a pressure that 
threatened to burst the hose, continued to play 
on the burning building. 

"They are saved, they are saved!” shouted a 
voice in the crowd, as the two men, with their 
faces blackened with smoke and soot, appeared at 
the windows through which they had entered, 


THE fireman’s HEART 


150 

each bearing a limp and helpless figure in his 
arms. 

Wild yells of delight arose from the spectators 
as the rescuers hastily but carefully emerged 
through the windows, and clasping their helpless 
burdens firmly to their breasts, began the perilous 
descent, while the crowd below checked its cheer- 
ing and held its breath in eager suspense as the 
rescuers came laboriously and slowly step by step 
down the steep ladders. 

Then when the last rounds were reached, the 
wild applause burst forth again, as the exhausted 
men relinquished their burdens to other willing 
hands and both fell fainting into the kind arms 
that were outstretched to receive them. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


One week had passed since the fire and noble 
rescue at General Bradley’s home. 

General Bradley and his granddaughter, who 
had almost recovered from the effects of the fire, 
had taken up their residence in another handsome 
building owned by the former, into which the 
effects saved from the late fire- had been removed. 

It was evident from the first that the fire had 
been the dastardly work of an incendiary, and 
Chief Campbell of the Forestville fire department, 
with General Bradley’s hearty consent, was de- 
termined to leave no stone unturned in his efforts 
to discover the vile perpetrator of the crime. 

Consequently Detective Rhoads, a noted and 
skillful member of the Pinkerton Detective Ser- 
vice, was summoned to ferret out the matter. 

Jack Wilton and his newly made wife had taken 
quarters at a hotel in the city immediately after 
the fire. The former sent a congratulatory message 
to General Bradley the next day, rejoicing over 
151 


152 


THE fireman’s HEART 


the escape of his friend and Miss Hyacinth from 
what came so near being an awful death, and 
added that the mental torture he had endured on 
the night of the fire had resulted in an attack of 
nervous prostration, from the effects of which he 
was confined to his bed. But at the earliest pos- 
sible moment he would do himself the honor to 
call upon his friend and benefactor and place his 
services at his disposal. 

Thus the import of the note, the cunning hy- 
pocrisy of which must have made the writer an 
object of envy to his Satanic Majesty himself, 
ran. The false-hearted writer, however, did not 
mention the fact of his late marriage, or refer to 
the woman who had been Miss Sophia Christopher 
in any manner. 

The fact of the private marriage between his 
secretary and his granddaughter’s governess had 
reached General Bradley’s ears, however, and 
when he read the carefully worded note, he folded 
it up without comment, vouchsafing it no reply. 

Mr. Wilton waited anxiously for several da3^s, 
hoping to receive a sumrhons to General Bradley’s 
home, hoping when this should come about to 
be able to reinstate himself in the millionaire’s 
favor. 




THE fireman’s iIeART 1 53 

Hearing nothing, he wrote his employer again, 
stating this time that he had recovered his health 
sufficiently to resume his duties as General Brad- 
ley’s secretary. 

To this cam6 a curt note from General Bradley, 
informing Mr. Wilton that his services were no 
longer required by the writer, and closed by re- 
ferring him to his accounts for proof that he had 
largely overdrawn his salary. “But this is of no 
consequence to myself,” he added. “I only wish 
you to distinctly understand that you are dismissed 
from my employ, and I have no desire to ever 
behold your face again.” 

The curses uttered by Jack Wilton when he read 
this note were loud and deep. 

“I wonder if he suspects' me?” he finally paused 
long enough in his profanity to ask himself. And 
then added reassuringly: 

“Of course he does not. He is only disgusted 
with me for having married that old simpering 
idiot. Curses on her! I wish she were in the 
bottom of the sea. Now all that remains for me 
to do is to make my escape from her. I posi- 
tively would rather spend the rest of my life in 
state’s prison than be compelled to live with 
her. " 


154 


THE fireman’s HEART 


His wife being absent from the room, he, acting 
on the impulse of the moment, sprang up and 
taking his valise, which had not been unpacked 
since his coming to the hotel, stole downstairs 
and deposited it with the clerk until called for. 

‘‘I must go down-town, Sophia,” he said a half 
hour later to his wife, “to attend to some business 
relative to our departure from Forestville. ” 

“Let me go with you,” she said quickly. 

“No. I shall be obliged to visit several offices, 
and it would be embarrassing to you,” he said 
half kindly. ‘‘I shall not be absent more than 
two hours, and in the meantime you may be 
making your preparations to leave here to-night. 
There is nothing left for us to remain here for 
now. ” 

‘T have very little preparations to make,” she 
said; and then asked: “But where shall we go, 
dear Jack?” 

‘T don’t know,” he answered sullenly. “We 
will not go far with the present funds we have. ” 

“You will have to sell the jeweled watch which 
old Bradley gave you, ” she suggested coarsely. 

He made her no reply, but left the room and 
closed the door behind him with a loud slam. 

His wife opened it immediately, and putting 


THE fireman’s HEART 


155 


her frizzled head outside, called out to him down 
the corridor: 

“Don’t stay away long, dear Jack.” 

Fearful that she might watch him, he half turned 
back as he answered: 

“I shall return as soon as I possibly can. You 
had better lie down and rest while I am gone, 
Sophia. ” 

“Come and kiss me and I will,” she said co- 
quettishly. 

Smothering down the oath he felt rising to his 
lips, he went back to where she was standing in 
the door and said in an irritated voice: 

“Sophia, I wish you would not talk so silly. 
The people in the adjoining rooms will hear you.” 

“Wed, what if they do?” she answered. “Are 
we not husband and wife? Kiss me now. Jack, 
like a good boy." 

With a look of disgust that he could not con- 
ceal, he merely touched his handsome mustache 
to his wife’s thin lips, and turning quickly, hurried 
away without another word. 

“If I can’t make my escape from that old fool, 
I will blow my brains out,” he muttered savagely 
to himself as he descended the stairway. Pausing 
in the office, he asked for his valise. 


156 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


“Are you going away, sir?’’ the clerk spoke re- 
spectfully, but eyed the man suspiciously as he 
handed him his baggage. 

“Only for a day,” Jack Wilton answered. “My 
wife will remain until I return,” and leaving the 
hotel, he bent his footsteps toward the depot. 

General Bradley’s handsome residence lay on 
his way, and when he passed it, he looked for a 
moment longingly toward its lofty doors and win- 
dows. Then obeying an impulse, he said to him- 
self: 

“I’ll risk it. The old man has always been wax 
in my hands, and I believe if I should see him I 
could reinstate myself in his favor.” 

So saying,he opened the small iron gate, crossed 
the yard, and ascended the marble steps. 

The hall door stood partly ajar, and pushing it 
open he entered unannounced, as one who had a 
perfect right to do so, and walked into the parlor 
on his right. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


When Jack Wilton was planning how he might 
that morning make his escape from his wife, two 
men were conversing in the parlor of General 
Bradley’s residence. 

One was Chief Campbell and the other Detec- 
tive Rhoads. 

"Arqf you sure, Captain, that you are on the right 
track, and that you will soon unearth the villain 
or villains who chloroformed General Bradley and 
his granddaughter, and then set the house on fire?" 
Chief Campbell asked. 

‘T am just as sure that I have discovered them 
as I am that you are sitting before me. Chief," 
the detective answered earnestly. 

"Why," he continued, "I never tracked a clearer 
case in my life. You see. General Bradley had 
neglected to destroy the will which made this 
Wilton his sole legatee. But when the old gentle- 
man’s granddaughter and rightful heir appeared 
157 


158 THE fireman’s HEART 

SO unexpectedly upon the scene, Jack Wilton 
knew that his jig was up as far as getting the 
fortune himself was concerned. Indeed, General 
Bradley, just the day before the fire, had warned 
Wilton that it had become necessary to have the 
will changed. So my hearty sets himself about 
arranging matters to suit himself before it was 
too late for him to do so. 

" So he and the woman whom he privately mar- 
ried on the eve of the fire chloroformed the gen- 
eral and his grandchild, and then fired the house. 
See? Why, I’ve even discovered the drug store 
at which Wilton purchased the chloroform.” 

“Is it possible?” exclaimed the chief in amaze- 
ment. “And General Bradley always considered 
Jack Wilton his warmest and truest friend. I am 
astonished. ” 

“Ah, my friend,” laughed Detective Rhoads, “if 
you had been in the secret service as long as I 
have, you would cease to be astonished at any- 
thing which you might discover, however improb- 
able the thing might seem at the outset. ” 

“Of course you will arrest Wilton and his wife 
at once,” the chief continued. 

“Yes, I have the warrants for their arrest in 
my pocket, and shall go immediately to the hofel 


THE fireman’s HEART 


159 


where they are stopping, and nab my birds,” the 
detective answered, rising and starting toward the 
door. 

He happened to glance out at the front window 
as he passed, and stopping short, exclaimed: 

“Blast my dogs and cat! there goes Wilton 
now — he has a valise in his hand — Great Scott, 
and greased lightning I the fellow is making tracks 
for the depot. I must — no, he is coming in here. 
Quick! let us hide and see what the rascal is go- 
ing to do.” 

The two men stepped behind a portiere* which 
concealed a cozy nook in the room, and hardly 
had the portiere closed behind them When Jack 
Wilton entered the room. 

He was very pale and his face wore a harassed 
and half frightened expression. 

“I wonder where everybody is,” he said to him- 
self, as he put his valise on a chair near the door. 
“I don’t even see a servant about.” 

Just then the sound of softly shod feet were 
heard approaching the door, and the next instant 
Washington stood grinning in the doorway. 

“Hello, Washington,” was Mr. Wilton’s greet- 
ing. “Is your master at home?” 

“Howdy, Mistah Wilton? I thought you’s done 


i6o 


THE fireman’s HEART 


daid and buried, sah,” Washington answered. 

“Well, you see I am not; so tell me if I may 
see General Bradley this morning,” Mr. Wilton 
answered. 

“No, sah. I’m disclined to decompose dat you 
can’t see de gineral dis mawnin’, sah,” replied 
Washington stiffly. 

“Why not, Washington?” Mr. Wilton asked 
half coaxingly. 

“Well, sah, you see, sah, in de fust and fore- 
most place, I has my orders frum de gineral, sah, 
not to ’mit you to his dispresence if you called, 
sah; and in de second case, Gineral Bradley and 
my young missus, sah, have gone out for a drive, 
and won’t be back foh two hours, sah.” 

“Very well, Washington,” returned Mr. Wilton, 
trying to speak pleasantly. “I would like to rest 
here a few minutes, and then I will go.” 

This evident humility in one whom he had ai- 
rways known to be proud and arrogant touched 
Washington’s tender heart, and he answered with 
alacrity: 

“All right, sah, make you’se’f at home; only 
git outen heah before de gineral gits home, foh 
somehow it do seem like de gineral is mad wid 
you ’bout somethin’. ’Spect it was ’cause you 


THE fireman’s HEART l6l 

married Miss Sophy — doe I hope you won’t t’ink 
dat de gineral wanted to marry dat oJe lady his- 
self, sah. ” 

"Washington, you Wash!" called the angry voice 
of Martha from the upper hall. "What are you 
standing there blabbing for? Didn’t I tell you 
to go to market to get the things for the cook?" 

"You sho did, Miss Marfa. But please, mam, 
don’t git so disfusticated; you’ll be habin’ popo- 
lexy terrectly," Washington called back in an- 
swer. 

"Move out of that hall and go about your bus- 
iness then," she answered, smothering a laugh. 

"Yas, Miss Marfa, I’s gwine dis minute, foh I 
hab jist ’membered what Miss Hyacin’ asked me 
to git for .her when I went to market dis mawnin’," 
and the boy ran off down the hall and disappeared 
in the direction of the kitchen. 

Mr. Wilton listened a moment to hear if Martha 
was coming, but he heard her footsteps die away 
along the upper hall, and then the great house 
was as silent as the grave. 

Nearly ever since coming into the room, Mr. 
Wilton’s eyes had been riveted on a small, heavy 
writing desk of antique oak, which stood in a 
corner of the room, and now he closed the parlor 


i 62 


THE fireman’s HEART 


door softly, and walking up to the desk, examined 
it critically. 

“I thought I was not mistaken,” he said exult- 
antly. “It is old Bradley’s private desk, which 
must have been carried safely out of the burning 
house. He always kept a large wallet stuffed with 
bank notes in it. Jack Wilton, cheer up, old boy! 
Perhaps old cloven foot has not quite deserted 
you yet.” He put his hand in his pocket and 
drew forth a bunch of keys. “Ah! here’s the key 
to the desk that the old man left in my care a few 
days before the fire. Evidently the desk has not 
been opened since, and the money is still in the 
drawer. If so, only give me five minutes more, 
then farewell forever to the old life, and to the 
old wife, silly old dupe that she is!” 

Taking the small key hurriedly between his 
thumb and finger, he applied it to the lock, when 
there was a rustle of female garments, and a deter- 
mined step in the hall, the door flew open, and 
Sophia Wilton stood before him. 

She was dressed in street costume, and was all 
breathless with haste and excitement. 

She rushed toward her husband, as he hastily 
withdrew the key from the lock and replaced it in 
his pocket. 


THE fireman's HEART 


163 


“Oh, Jack, dear, sweet, darling husband! I have 
been nearly frightened to death about you. I met 
Washington on the street, and he told me that 
you were here, and, oh, I am so glad to find that 
you are safe, because I was afraid that you had 
been arrested,” she cried in great excitement. 

Jack Wilton stepped to and softly closed the 
door, and turning to his wife, said angrily: t 

“Woman, will you hold your tongue? Your 
cursed prattle will get me into trouble yet.” 

Mrs. Wilton regarded her husband a moment 
in silent, open-eyed amazement, and then for the 
first time in her life began to show him the other 
side of her character. 

Her steely eyes flashed, and she demanded an- 
grily: 

“Jack Wilton, what do you mean, sir, by ad- 
dressing your own lawful wife in this harsh man- 
ner?” 

The man quailed before her angry eyes and 
speech, and answered humbly: 

“Well, Sophia, you must excuse a good deal in 
a man who is harassed to death. Remember, I 
have lost everything, the situation included.” 

“You have not lost me. Jack,” she returned 
somewhat pacified. 


164 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


"No — o — o. But, Sophia, now that you know 
I am safe, just run back to the hotel and I will 
join you there in an hour or so. That’s a good 
girl,’’ he said coaxingly. 

"Oh, no. Jack, no indeed," she said with great 
earnestness. "Now I have found you I shall never 
take my eyes off you until we are safely out of 
Forestville. ’’ 

Mr. Wilton had to struggle hard for an instant 
to repress the angry oath which sprang to his 
lips. Having finally succeeded, he said in an in- 
jured tone: 

"But Sophia, it seems to me that you might at 
least give me credit for having sense enough to 
take care of myself. You will only hinder me in 
my preparations for our departure if you persist 
in remaining with me. Just go back to the hotel. 
I '(Vill be there presently, and to-night we .will 
leave Forestville forever." He took her arm gently 
as he ceased his speech, and tried to lead her to 
the door. 

She went a few steps, when her eye fell on the 
valise resting in the chair, which she instantly 
recognized as that of her husband. 

"Why, Jack, what is this?" she asked suspi- 
ciously. "It is your valise, sir, and you are trying 


THE fireman’s HEART 165 

to run away from me — me, your lawfully wedded 
wife!” 

"Why, Sophia, what nonsense! Run away from 
you? Pray, why should I attempt to run away 
from you?” he said soothingly. 

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Wilton answered, pressing 
her hand on her heart. “But my heart tells me 
that all is not right, and I don’t intend to /lose 
sight of you.” 

“Sophia,” her husband exclaimed, in a tone of 
rising anger, “you are enough to worry a man to 
death. Now, won’t you return to the hotel?” 

“Yes, if you will go with me,” she said, in a 
tone of dogged persistency. 

“But I tell you that I can not go at present,” 
he said sternly. 

“And I tell you, ” she said angrily, “that I won’t 
go until you do, if you stay here forever. ” 

“You won’t go, eh?” cried Mr. Wilton, grasp- 
ing his wife’s arm with no gentle grip. “We will 
see about that, madam. I will force you to go.” 

Mrs. Wilton wrenched her arm from his grasp 
and said threateningly: 

“You just try it if you dare, and I’ll scream 
every step of the way.” 

Her husband turned his head aside with a de- 


THE FIREMAN^S HEART 


1 66 

spairing gesture, and said in a voice of despair: 

“Sophia, why, oh, why will you be such a fool?" 

“Because I am your lawfully wedded wife, 
Jack,” she said, smiling at him sarcastically. 

“Sophia,” he cried in desperate anger, “if you 
don’t return to the hotel at once as I bid you, 1 
will never live with you a7iother day." 

“There!” cried Mrs. Wilton, with flashing eyes, 
“I knew that you were trying to desert me — your 
own lawfully wedded wife — a poor innocent 
young girl whom you made your bride and inveigled 
into the crime of attempting murder. Now you 
are trying to forsake her, you black-hearted villain. 
But I’ll teach you, sir, whom you are fooling 
with,” she continued, as she shook her fist in her 
husband’s face. 

Mr. Wilton, now thoroughly frightened, smoth- 
ered his anger, and tried to answer humbly: 

“Sophia, I will not desert you, dear. ” 

“I know you won’t,” she said, leering up into his 
face, “for I don’t intend to give you a c-h-a-n-c-e. 
You just try to desert me, if you dare, and I’ll 
turn state’s evidence against you, sir, and tell all 
about your crime of arson, and our united attempt 
to murder General Bradley and his granddaugh- 


/ 


THE fireman’s HEART 


167 


The detective and chief now sprang from be- 
hind the portiere and confronted the guilty 
pair, and the detective said: 

“Oh, ho, my lady, I think I will save you the 
trouble of turning state’s evidence against this 
fine bird of yours.” 

Mrs. Wilton screamed wildly, while her hus- 
band cried in a voice of terror: ' 

“Great God! Sophia, your infernal tongue has 
ruined me!” 

He made a wild dash for the door with the 
words, but the detective was too quick for him. 
He sprang between his prisoner and the door and 
said in a stern voice, as he leveled a pistol at 
Wilton’s head: 

“Jack Wilton, you are my prisoner. One more 
attempt to escape, and you are a dead man. ” 

The man stopped suddenly and stood in stony 
silence, while his wife threw herself upon the sofa, 
buried her face in her hands and began to sob- 
bingly lament her fate. 

“Oh, the wretch, the wretch! See the trouble 
he has got me into. I wish I had never seen his 
face. Oh, the wretch, the wretch!” She rocked her 
body to and fro while giving vent to those excla- 
mations, until the detective had placed a pair of 


i68 


THE fireman’s HEART 


handcuffs on her husband’s wrists, and turning to 
the woman, he said sternly: 

“Mrs. Wilton, I arrest vou in the. name of the 
law of Alabama.” 

“Oh, Mr. Detective,” she cried, starting up 
wildly, “I didn’t burn the house. Jack did it. I 
didn’t want to chloroform the girl — Jack made me 
do it. I was just a poor innocent young girl, 
you know. Oh, please let me off, please, please 
let me off!” 

“Sophia Wilton, you are my prisoner; come, 
have on the bracelets,” the detective said in a 
commanding voice. 

The woman screamed at the sight of the hand- 
cuffs, and putting her hands behind her, said 
frantically: 

“Oh, Mr. Officer, please don’t put those awful 
things on me. I am just a poor innocent — ” 

“Will you hush your noise then, and come along 
with me peaceably?” the detective said, interrupt- 
ing her pleading. “If you will, I will not put the 
handcuffs on you; but if you don’t, then on they 
go. Now march! Come along, old man,” address- 
ing Wilton, who stood near the door with a look 
of desperation on his white face. 

“Oh, what are you going to do with us?” cried 


THE fireman’s HEAR 


169 


Mrs. Wilton, as the prisoners, closely followed by 
the detective and the chief, were leaving the 
house. 

“Oh, I am just going to touch the button; the 
law will do the rest,” the detective answered 
nonchalantly. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


It was the evening of the day which witnessed 
the arrest of Jack Wilton and his wife. General 
Bradley and his granddaughter sat in the parlor 
at home talking over the events of the day, and 
enjoying each other’s companionship. 

Hyacinth was dressed very prettily, and her 
grandfather thought he never saw a fairer picture 
than the child made, as she sat on an ottoman at 
his feet and looked up confidingly into his face 
with her clear, innocent brown eyes. 

“Are you not glad, grandpapa,” she said, “that 
Sophia and her husband, who committed this 
awful crime, were arrested and will no doubt be 
severely punished?” 

General Bradley drew a deep sigh, and answered 
slowly: 

“Those two certainly deserve to be severely 
punished, and no doubt this will be meted out to 
them. Still it makes me very sad, my dear, when 
I think how badly I was deceived in Jack Wil- 
ton’s character.” 


170 


THE fireman’s HEART 


I71 

"Is it any wonder, grandpapa,” she asked, "that 
I despised those two persons instinctively, when 
they were capable of committing such a dastardly 
crime?” 

"The good angels who are said to keep watch 
over all pure and innocent hearts, such as yours, 
my child, must have warned you against those 
enemies of ours,” he answered thoughtfully. 

"Perhaps they did,” she replied. "But oh, grand- 
papa” — with a little shudder — "what a horrible fate 
we were rescued from! You had no idea that fire- 
men were so brave, had you?” 

‘T have witnessed and read of the bravery of 
firemen many times, my child. But this was the 
most remarkable case of heroic courage I ever 
saw or heard of. Why, just think of it! In less 
than twenty minutes after the rescue, the floor 
from which our unconscious forms were carried, 
fell with an awful crash, carrying everything on 
it to destruction.” 

"What a kind providence it was,” said the girl 
meditatively, "that sent dear papa’s old comrades 
here just the day before the fire! Don’t you think, 
grandpapa, that we should have perished in the 
flames had Captain Fred and Tim not been here 
to rescue us?” 




172 


THE fireman’s HEART 


“It is very probable that we should, for while 
our Forestville firemen have brave and tender 
hearts, and are heroic in times of danger, and loyal 
to duty as all true firemen are, still I doubt if 
any of their number would have dashed into what 
seemed to be the jaws of an awful death in the 
vain attempt to rescue us. This risk was reserved 
for your dear father’s comrades, who had each 
bound himself by an oath to protect you from 
harm or lay down his life in the attempt— noble 
fellows!’’ General Bradley answered, as he brushed 
the curls back with a caressing hand from his 
grandchild’s white brow. 

The parlor door softly opened and Washington 
entered on tiptoe, and bowing before his master, 
said with his usual grin: 

“Gineral, de young gempman what toted Miss 
Hyacinth outen de fire, and Mr. Tim O’Brian, is 
out yondah, sah, and they say dat they wish to 
pay their ’spects to you and de young lady, sah.” 

“Very well, Washington, show the gentlemen 
in,” General Bradley replied, while the pink flush 
deepened in Hyacinth’s oval cheeks. 

“Cap’n Ellsworth and Mr. Tim O’Brian, sah,” 
announced Washington, as he flung the parlor 
door wide open to admit the callers. 


THE fireman’s HEART 


173 


Hyacinth sprang up, and running to meet Cap- 
tain Ellsworth, said with visible emotion as she 
took both his broad palms with her own tiny ones: 

“Oh, Fred! how can I find words to express 
my heartfelt gratitude to you — my deliverer?” 

“Hush, Hyacinth, ” returned Captain Ellsworth 
feelingly. “Don’t try to say one word about it, 
child. Thank God! ^ou were saved and that is 
all the reward I want.” 

He dropped her hands hurriedly as if he did 
not dare trust his rising emotions farther, and 
turned away to receive General Bradley’s warm 
greeting. 

“But it wasn’t all the reward he got, little 
guirel, ” said Tim, who had been shaking hands 
with General Bradley and now turned to take Hya- 
cinth’s outstretched hand. “What does our babby 
think of this?” and turning back the lapel of his 
coat with his left hand, Tim proudly displayed a 
beautiful gold medal pinned to the lapel of his 
vest. 

“Why, Tim, what a beautiful medal!” the girl 
exclaimed, as she bent forward and examined the 
glittering badge critically. “Where did you get 
it?” 

“Cap’ll Fred has one jist loik it," Tim an- 


174 


THE fireman’s HEART 


swered, proudly smiling. “They were presented 
to us lost noight by the honorable mayor and 
board of city councilmen ‘as a token of appreciation 
for our bravery,’ as the honorable mayor said in 
his nate speech: as if the thought that we were 
a-doing a brave act iver intered the heads of 
Cap’n Fred and mesilf when we rushed to the 
rescue of our little gurrel and her honored grand- 
father. ” 

“But the deed showed how brave and loyal you 
both are, dear Tim,” said the child proudly, “and 
I am so glad that your bravery was awarded pub- 
lic recognition.” 

“Bliss the little darlint, ” exclaimed honest old 
Tim, and then casting his eyes towards where 
General Bradley and Captain Ellsworth were 
standing on the opposite side of the room, engaged 
in earnest conversation, he lowered his voice and 
continued: 

“But yez haven’t heard all the good news yet, 
little gurrel. Phwat yez think? This marnin’, who 
should be afther callin’ on Cap’n Fred and me- 
silf but Gineral Bradley’s business man? And be 
gorra, if the jewel didn’t presint us wid a chick 
apiece for tin thousand dollars, wid the compli- 
ments of Gineral Bradley! May all the saints bliss 


THE fireman’s HEART 


175 


the noble gintleman! And now it’s Tim O’Brian, 
who was too poor when he came to Foristville 
little more nor a week ago, to buy a pick of praties, 
that is a rich man entoirely,beside bein’ the owner 
of a foin gold medal. Arrah, faith and be jabbers, 
but it was a looky day for the two mimbers of 
the Fairfield foir department whin the same lads 
set fut in the city of Forestville. " 

Hyacinth burst into a merry laugh at Tim’s 
droll speech, and then said earnestly: 

“You can’t think how happy I am to hear of 
your good luck, Tim. But you deserve every bit 
of it, and more too.” 

“What are you laughing so merrily over. Hya- 
cinth?” asked her grandfather smilingly, whose 
attention had been attracted by the girl’s musical 
laugh. 

“At something Tim was telling that pleased me 
very much, grandpapa,” she answered. 

“Come here, my dear,” he said, “and see Cap- 
tain Ellsworth’s medal.” 

“And just see Tim’s also,” she said, taking 
Tim’s arm; and leading him towards her grand- 
father, she left him proudly displaying his badge 
to the admiring eyes of General Bradley while 
she turned to Captain Ellsworth. 


176 


THE fireman’s HEART 


But the bright eyes that had twinkled with mer- 
riment as she listened to Tim’s news were swim- 
ming with tears as she bent her graceful head near 
Captain Fred’s broad chest to examine the shining 
ornament which he wore on the lapel of his vest. 

“Need I assure you, little one, that I am very 
proud of the honor your city has bestowed upon 
me?” Captain Ellsworth said in a low voice. 

“You must be very proud of it, dear Fred,” she 
said, in a slightly trembling voice. 

“But not half so proud and happy over this 
unexpected honor as I am at having been instru- 
mental in saving your precious life. Hyacinth,” he 
answered with deep feeling. “Ah! little did the 
honorable mayor and board of councilmen know 
of the sweet incentive which spurred me on to the 
rescue,” he continued, as he took both the girl’s 
hands into his own and looked adoringly into the 
dewy eyes she lifted to his face. 


CHAPTER XX. 


Six years have, one by one, gathered up their 
hours of daylight and darkness, sunshine and 
clouds, joy and sorrow, and laden with them 
disappeared irrevocably down the misty avenues 
of the past, since the coming of Captain Ellsworth 
and Timothy O’ Brian to Forestville. 

And to-day a grand wedding feast has been cel- 
ebrated at the palatial home of General Bradley, 
the dear old gentleman whom we have all learned 
to love, and our little Hyacinth, the firemen’s 
protege and warm, true-hearted friend, now grown 
into magnificent womanhood, gave her hand in 
marriage to Captain Ellsworth, who has, ever 
since the girl’s infancy, held undivided possession ^ 
of her innocent heart. 

“I have neither wealth, proud ancestry, nor a 
celebrated name to help me plead my cause,” the 
young man had said frankly, when he besought 
General Bradley’s consent to a betrothal between ^ 
Hyacinth and himself. 


177 


178 


THE fireman’s HEART 


"But you have what is far better, and more en- 
during, my lad, ” the old gentleman replied warm- 
ly. "You possess a true, loyal heart, and strict 
integrity of character. I have not had your daily 
life under a microscope with my eye on the lens 
for five years not to have discovered this." 

And so it came about in due course of time that 
this wedding, which passed down as a notable 
event in the annals of the history of Forestville, 
was celebrated, and never a more winsome or noble- 
hearted bride breathed her nuptial vow than the 
one who promised to take plain Captain Fred 
Ellsworth "for better or worse." 

The hand of sorrow had truly leveled General 
Bradley’s pride, and after years of lonely grief he 
had learned to appreciate the fact that there is 
something that may be attained by every human 
being, that makes life far more worth the living 
than the mere pride of wealth and ancestry. 

When plans for the bridal trip were being dis- 
cussed by the young couple just before their mar- 
riage, Hyacinth said: 

"I should far rather go to Fairfield and visit 
our boys and their families than to go any place 
else in the world, dear Fred." 

"You echo my own inclinations in regard to 


THE fireman’s HEART 


179 


the matter, my darling, and I will inform Chief 
McLain that we are coming,” replied the happy 
young man. 

Three deliciously happy weeks, therefore, were 
spent by the newly married pair with their friends 
of the Fairfield fire department, and when the fire- 
men’s prot^g^ and her husband bade them a re- 
luctant farewell, Chief McLain, through the 
generosity of the bride, had been made the guar- 
dian of a sum of money which afterwards made 
the Fairfield fire department the most complete 
and handsomely equipped one in the West. 

By and by, when Captain Ellsworth and his 
lovely wife returned to Forestville and settled 
down in the home of General Bradley, — as the old 
gentleman would not listen to the proposition of 
their setting up a separate establishment, — Gen- 
eral Bradley suddenly declared his intention of 
visiting Fairfield, Arizona. 

He was very reticent, however, about the cause 
that led to this sudden decision on his part. 

‘T suppose he is going for the purpose of vis- 
iting dfear papa’s grave,” the young wife said to 
her husband, after her grandfather had started on 
his westward journey. 

General Bradley, however, lingered for two 


i8o 


THE fireman’s HEART 


months in the pretty western town which had 
been his son’s home, and where his remains had 
found their last resting place, and just before his 
return home the secret cause of his lengthy so- 
journ was explained in a letter received by Hya- 
cinth from Chief McLain. 

“The secret is out, my dear little Hyacinth,” 
the chief wrote, "and I hasten to avail myself of 
the proud privilege which has been accorded me 
by your honored grandfather, to be the first one 
to acquaint you with its import. The cause of 
General Bradley’s extended stay in Fairfield was 
the carrying out of a dearly cherished plan of his 
to erect a Firemen’s Hospital in this city in mem- 
ory of his son, your dearly beloved father and 
our true hearted comrade, Lawrence Bradley. 

“The grand building is well under way, and has 
been presented to this city by deed of gift, with 
a munificent endowment, by General Bradley. I 
will not attempt a description of the edifice, for 
my pen could not do it justice; suffice it for the 
present to say that the memorial hospital with 
everything pertaining to it is an ornament to the 
State of Arizona. But you and Captain Fred 
must come and see it for yourselves when it is 
completed. But, by the way, I must not forget 


THE fireman’s HEART 


l8l 


to give you the name of the memorial building, 
which name was one of your grandfather’s own 
choosing. It is called 'The Fireman’s Heart,’ 
which, though odd, is a very unique and signifi- 
cant name. Above the outer door of the hospital 
is placed a design of most exquisite workmanship, 
wrought in gold and silver, consisting of a larg<3 
golden heart, on the face of which is inscribed in 
large letters, ‘The Fireman’s Heart’ Running 
through the heart almost diagonally is a silver 
arrow, on the end of which appears in golden let- 
ters the word ‘Love,’ while at it points the letters 
forming the word ‘Courage,’ standing out in bold 
relief. On either side of the heart, running diag- 
onally and in opposite direction to the arrow, are 
a golden hook and ladder, while attached to this 
design by tiny chains is a complete fire engine, 
above and beneath which is placed the motto, 
‘We lend our aid in time of need,’ all beautifully 
wrought in gold; while crowning the whole de- 
sign is a fireman’s helmet, composed of gold and 
silver. 

"“You and Captain Fred will, no doubt, have the 
laugh on me, when you see the beautiful design 
yourselves, for my clumsy and imperfect descrip- 
tion of it. But I can stand it, if you will only come. ” 


i 82 


THE fireman’s HEART 


I might go on and enlarge this little book to 
a heavy volume, were I to attempt to further follow 
the happy and useful life of the daughter of the 
fireman known as Lawrence Bradley, or were I 
to say all that is in my heart to relate pf the 
noble work, heroism, and devotion to duty of the 
large band of firemen with which our fair land is 
blessed. 

But I will desist. The daily press throughout 
the United States is filled with the record of brave 
deeds of this loyal fraternity; the members of 
which, often without reward or even hope of ap- 
preciation for their heroic work, guard our homes 
from the ravages of the fiery fiend while we slum- 
ber; and reach willing, helpful hands to us in 
our hours of distress. 

These facts are too well known to require dilat- 
ing upon; so with one brief glance at our charac- 
ters, we will close these pages. 

General Bradley, over whose life the peaceful 
shades of evening-tide are falling, still resides 
with his devoted granddaughter, and while his 
bright-eyed great-grandchildren frolic merrily 
about his feet, he basks calmly in the last tender 
rays of life’s setting sun, patiently waiting for the 
welcome summons to join the wife of his youth 


THE fireman’s HEART 


183 


and his long lost son beyond this land of shadows. 

Jack Wilton and his wife were sentenced to a 
long term of imprisonment, having been found 
guilty of the crime of which they were accused. 
The false friend of General Bradley, however, was 
relieved by the hand of death from serving more 
than one year of his sentence, but his wife is still ' 
behind the bars of the Alabama State prison, 
from which let us hope she may emerge a better 
and wiser woman. 

Tim O’ Brian — loyal-hearted old Tim — after 
years of bachelorhood, at last found a wife to suit 
him in the person of Nora, a buxom and rosy- 
cheeked girl fresh from the Emerald Isle, and the 
two live in a pretty cottage not far from the engine 
house of the Forestville ‘Alerts.’ Tim js still a 
fireman, and he says that he hopes he may never 
live to see the day when he is “too owld to rin 
whin the fire gong rings the lads to dooty. “ 

Washington continues to be the devoted slave 
of “Miss Hyacin’,’’ and the torment of Martha’s 
life. 

Chie^f Campbell having removed to a Northern 
city. Captain Ellsworth is now the dearly loved 
chief of the Forestville fire department. 


THE END. 


X 


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of how Webster’s $12.00 Dictionary 
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The Definition of '' CARTESIANISM ” 
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Car-tesian-ism, n. The philosophy of Des 
Cartes. 


The followins is the manner in which 

The Amepicain 

ENCYCLOPEDiC DICTIONARY 


Defines the same Word. 

Car-tes-i-an-ism, s. [Eng. cartesian The 

system of philosophy taught by Descartes. Ren6 
Descartes in his twentieth year resolved as far as 
possible to eliminate from his mind all that had ever 
been taught him by books or by instructors, and think 
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us in mathematical and'^ metaphysical demonstra- 
tions; these sciences, therefore, are trustworthy. The 
actual existence of the external world is prpved by 
the prior truth, the existence of God. Creation was 
and is a manifestation of the Divine will. _ 

Descartes revolutionized mathematics, imparting 
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the law of the refraction of a ray of light through a 
diaphanous body, but his a priori method was not the 
proper instrument for physical investigation, and 
his researches in that department were a comparative 
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